


Irrelevant lovers

by Gwenhata



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Break Up, Can you believe I forgot to tag that before haha, Foetus Yuzu, How Do I Tag This, I Am Not Even Sorry, Light mentions of sex, M/M, Mentions of Shoma Uno, Mentions of various other skaters, Moving On, Panic Attacks, Part 2 is soooo dramatic, Pining, Post-Break Up, Self-Esteem Issues, Some light resentment, Some tooth rotting fluff, There are so many tears on both parts it is ridiculous, sappy declarations, yuzuvier - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-26 14:20:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 47,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12060747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gwenhata/pseuds/Gwenhata
Summary: When Javier realises Yuzuru and him simply do not move in the same direction, he has to make a decision that will change both of their fates. But was there no hope left? Is love really not enough? Yuzuru would probably argue, if he had the opportunity.





	1. Feeling Irrelevant: A story by Javier Fernandez

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!  
> So here is a piece I wrote in March after hearing two amazing songs, namely Irrelevant by Lauren Aquilina (Javier's part) and Almost Lovers by A Fine Frenzy (Yuzuru's). I wrote this before any program or GP assignment was announced so now there are a couple inaccuracies but well...  
> This is un-beta'd and English is not my native language, so please forgive me for any grammar or spelling mistake...  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy the first part, the second one will come soon!

Javier remembered very well the first time he had heard about Yuzuru Hanyu. He was in the locker room of this year’s Skate Canada venue, lacing his boots. Kevin Reynolds kept talking about the performance the then 15 year old had pulled off the week before at the NHK trophy, finishing only 6 points behind the bronze medalist and Javier’s training mate, Florent Amodio. The Spaniard had briefly listened before brushing the new kid off. He wouldn’t be the first one to make a grand entrance on the senior level only to crash, and he had to focus on his competition.

              The next time he heard about the Japanese boy, it was upon arriving in Moscow for the Rostelecom Cup. His coach, Nikolai Morozov kept warning him about the newcomer and his surprising charm on the ice. Javier had to achieve at least the second place to hope for a Grand Prix Final qualification and, competing against Patrick Chan and Jeremy Abbott, this would not be an easy task. Of course, he failed and finished ninth, disappointing not only himself but also his coach. And above him, seventh, was the kid with his outrageous talent and his lack of self-control.

              It took them nearly a year before they got formally introduced. Javier had switched coach for the Canadian Brian Orser after years of feeling like he couldn’t possibly be enough with Nikolai. Brian was warm, welcoming and encouraging. He took great care of his students with the other coaches. Together, they went back to Moscow in 2011 and he did everything to make his student comfortable.

              The day before the short program, during practice, Javier saw a young boy, barely a senior, skate towards him, and he kind of guessed who that might be. Clad in his tight black training gear, Yuzuru Hanyu stopped next to him with a dazzling smile on his face and extended his hand. It took several seconds for Javier to return the smile and the gesture and to introduce himself.

“Hi,” he shook the boy’s hand. “I’m Javier Fernandez.”

The other one giggled. “I know. I Yuzuru Hanyu.” His accent was terrible and his English barely understandable. “I want say good luck.”

              With that, the Japanese had already taken off and Javier found himself looking at Brian at the boards, a bit confused, only to get a shrug as an answer. Well, this hadn’t been rude, he just couldn’t see the point of it, so he skated back to his coach, grabbed his bottle of water, drank a couple gulps and set it down.

“You know him?” He asked.

“It is Hanyu, isn’t it?” Wondered Brian. “I have heard about him. He made a good impression at the NHK last year if I remember. Nearly won the cup of China a month ago. He is a serious competitor here, that’s for sure.”

              Brian, as usual, had been right in assessing the kid as Javier’s main threat, because when he actually started training, he had all eyes set on him. There was a wild abandon in his movements that made him both inconsistent and somewhat intense, but he had an aura around him, a confidence in the line of his back that certainly didn’t belong to a seventeen year old. And, of course, the boy won the event, but Javier was not far behind.

              They met once again in both the Grand Prix Final and the World Championships, getting 3rd and 4th place in the first and 3rd and 9th in the second, but didn’t speak beyond polite greetings and did not pay so much attention to the other. Well, the Spaniard did take some time to stare at the ridiculous mummy costume of his free skate and the abomination of both of his exhibition outfits. He could understand the rhinestones and the glitter but he truly despised both the feathers and the sleeveless hoodie. If it were only for him, he would have burnt everything, no one deserved to be exposed to these horrendous things.

              It came as a surprise, however, when Brian announced that the boy would come and train with them in Toronto, if Javier agreed of course. The skater had nodded, not really sure about his feelings surrounding that. Last time he had trained with an actual competitor, he had been neglected by his coach, and yet, he wanted to believe that Brian was different and was ready to give it a try.

              What he had not expected either was that Yuzuru was set to arrive only a month later, in late April with both his mom and his dreams. He would travel regularly between Japan and Toronto to finish high school and Javier wondered how the kid was supposed to deal with both while constantly being on an eight hour plane when he was not away for competitions. If that was the way the JSF treated its skaters, he was happy to be part of a smaller federation. However, this was none of his business and he didn’t comment on it. He already had enough to do with his slightly inconsistent quadruple Salchow.

              After weeks of excited rumors and poorly veiled excitement, the door of the Toronto Cricket Club opened to let a slim silhouette in. The boy had barely changed ever since their first meeting, he looked just as young and vulnerable, if not more. He had a suitcase in one hand and a folder in the other. Everyone just stopped in their tracks when Brian left Elene to meet their new training mate, soon followed by almost all the other skaters. From afar, Javier could see that, while everyone was trying to welcome him warmly, they were distressing him. The boy kept bowing in all directions, eyes wandering over everyone and he felt a little sorry for him. After half an hour of excited shouting in his ear, he was led in Brian’s office to discuss training schedules.

              It was not until the next week that Yuzuru was allowed on the ice for a first afternoon training, and just like every time he started skating, most people just stopped to stare at him. The boy might look helpless on land, but on four millimeters blades, he lit up. He skated several lapses under Brian’s scrutiny and, without any other kind of warm up, he just leapt forward and achieved three and a half perfect rotations before landing on his right back outside edge without so much as blinking. Silence settled on the rink as everyone stared at him, dumbfounded. He did know how to make a grand entrance, thought Javier.

              Brian seemed a little less impressed than the rest and a bit more annoyed but the kid was just too eager to stay put and only do stroking exercises. His purpose was to jump and he did so as soon as he had more than ten seconds unsupervised. They soon learnt that Yuzuru had an iron will that kept him going even when he fell, that brought him to the rink long before the beginning of practice and would only let him leave the ice when he was threatened by a jumping interdiction. He meticulously followed Tracy and Brian’s advice and had them correct him for the tiniest imperfection regarding his step sequences and his spins. But really, nothing compared to his jumps.

              Javier was a good jumper, his quads toe and Salchow were pretty decent (Brian called them awesome) and his triple axels would sometimes turn out perfect. In comparison, the kid was a mess. He didn’t control his energy well and often let it explode for the world to see to end up crashing on the ice or against the boards. His quadruple Salchow was average and unreliable at best and his triple Lutz often finished in a jumbled mess of curses in both Japanese and rudimentary English.

              But no matter how many times his hips, shoulders, back and hands hit the ice, the boy would get up, fury blazing in his eyes, skate a couple laps before throwing himself in the air again. This often led to afternoons of Yuzuru landing solely on his butt and on Brian losing patience, but it was nearly impossible to stop him from expecting perfection.

              After weeks, they still had to communicate with each other. Javier had been assessing the new addition to their club from afar, never going beyond greeting him, and the other seemed to respect that distance between them. But when he would catch the Spaniard looking at him, he would flash him a sweet smile and Javier finally made his move on a stormy Friday afternoon. Yuzuru had been laying on the ice grunting after having missed his third quadruple Salchow in a row when he skated to him and purposely sent some ice on him. The boy glared at him.

“Get up,” he ordered, extending his hand. “If Brian sees you here, he is going to get mad. I’m pretty sure he told you to train with Tracy today.”

“I want jump,” grumbled Yuzuru taking his hand and jumping on his feet. “I tired of exercises. I need jump.”

“You’re not in junior anymore, _niño_ ,” reminded him the older skater. “There is more to skating than jumping. And you need a break; you’ve been training for the past two hours, that can’t be healthy. Come with me, we have the Toronto's best coffee shop at the Club.”

The kid seemed hesitant. “Brian…”

“Doesn’t want you to jump, so you better not be on the ice than in the air; trust me on that one, okay?”

              He only got a nod in response and he smiled at the younger skater. They both went to the lounge where the Spaniard ordered two black coffees for them and let the boy choose their sit. The first few minutes were spent in silence and he wondered if he should say something. He soon learnt that Yuzuru’s English was absolutely terrible and that anything non-related to skating was a no-go zone.

Well, he had never been known for his strict compliance to stupid rules. “So, how is it going here?” he asked slowly.

The way Yuzuru seemed to go over every word, scrunching his face was absolutely endearing. “Is hard. My English not good and I tired.”

Javier tried to not cringe too much. His English was not perfect and he knew many skaters who also struggled with the language, but the kid had a way of butchering both the pronunciation and the grammar that made his ears bleed. It was not his fault; of course, the guy was a skater, not an English Literature teacher, but still.

“You’ll get used to it,” he said, “I went through that.”

“I know. But very new,” replied the Japanese. “I can do it.”

“I know. Drink your coffee, it will be cold.”

              He saw the boy raise the cup to his lips and scrunch his nose at the strong smell that assaulted him. He looked a bit reluctant to try but one look at Javier’s encouraging smile had him taking a sip. Immediately, his face contorted in disgust and he set the cup down a bit too violently to the sound of the other’s laughter.

“I guess not then?”

“No. Is…”

“Bitter?” He got a blank look. “Not good? You need more sugar?”

“Yes.”

Javier laughed. “That’s what is good about it, you could get used to it as well.”

“First English. Two that. Maybe,” joked the Japanese, offering his training mate the first true smile of the day. “We go on ice?”

“Let’s go, Tracy will be looking for you.”

              They got up and went back to the ice with the clumsy airs of two toddlers, sharing easy smiles and a comfortable silence. When crossing the threshold of the lounge, Javier pushed Yuzuru forward, a hand on his back, not really paying attention. However, the Japanese jumped, nearly fell and looked at the older one, confused.

“Sorry, did I scare you?” Giggled the Spaniard.

“I… Your hand, it is…”

“Oh, that,” he realized. “Sorry, Spanish customs, I can be pretty touchy-feely.” He saw incomprehension on the boy’s face. “I don’t do that like _that_ , in Spain we just touch a lot, sorry, I’ll stop.”

“No,” Yuzuru cut him off, a tentative smile on his lips. “Is fine. No worry. Javier can do, I just surprised.”

              That was as long a speech as the older skater had heard from his new colleague and he let out a laugh seeing the little determined light in his eyes and hearing his chaotic explanation. The guy might be a prodigy on the ice, but he was nothing short of adorable in this context. Especially with the confused look harboring his face.

“Why you laugh?”

“You’re cute,” Javier teased him. “All flustered and confused.”

“I not cute,” protested the other.

“Sure. Let’s go, we have about an hour before the end of practice and you still have to work on these stroking exercises.”

 

* * *

 

              What Javier didn’t remember was when exactly they had started hanging out outside of the rink. During the first weeks of them talking it had been all about taking their breaks together and sharing pieces of advice on their quads Salchow, triple axels and steps sequences. They would often be found sitting together on the couches or going through stroking exercises together.

              And suddenly, after their second World Championships together, they were taking the same trains before splitting at the bus station, they were going for lunch or dinner together or even staying at Javier’s place playing video games until four in the morning. Yuzuru’s mom sometimes invited him over for dinner and always gave him the leftovers. Somehow, in the span of a year, they had gotten pretty close. Of course, the language barrier was still here and Yuzuru was not a fast learner regarding English, but they made it work. They got used to having dictionaries with them and had learnt to communicate efficiently through gestures. Sometimes, when someone was speaking to the Japanese and he wouldn’t understand, they would call Javier to come and help.

              The boys had got very comfortable with the other, something that no one, especially Brian, would have expected. They would rather train together than separately because they motivated each other. Javier would keep Yuzuru in line, preventing him from spending hours just jumping, and the Japanese made sure his new friend would stay focused and dynamic throughout their training sessions. When competing, they would cheer for the other and comfort him if he failed. They had a peculiar relationship but they made it work. And nobody ever commented on how Javier seemed to be unable to keep his hands for himself around the other. The Spaniard himself didn’t know what to think of it. He hadn’t started voluntarily, but now, whenever they stood next to each other, he would find his hand on his friend’s hip or at the nape of his neck. He would go for a hug with close to no reason and always find the other snuggling against him. He wondered sometimes if that had to do with his fierce determination to help and protect the younger one.

 

              The first alarm rang in his head the first time he woke up curled against Yuzuru’s back the morning after his disastrous skate at the NHK Trophy in 2013. They were staying over at Yuzuru’s house in Sendai because Yumi had kindly invited both him and Brian to stay in a more comfortable place than a hotel. Both of them had accepted and Brian was now sleeping two rooms down the corridor while Yuzuru had installed a mattress on the floor for himself, giving his bed to his guest. They had fought over it a lot and had both decided to sleep on the mattress, hoping the other would surrender. Neither had and they’d slept as far from each other as possible all week long. Except that, this morning, Javier woke up to hair tickling his nose and with his friend’s lithe body in his arms.

              Now, Javier was a relatively open-minded guy and was all for letting boys be affectionate toward one another, but as far as he was concerned, this was not something he did much with his friends. This was how he woke up with Cortney. But the body against his  lacked several body parts that would help him identify that this person was Cortney and anyway, his girlfriend was back in Toronto, currently not speaking to him for some bullshit.

He was cuddling Yuzuru.

              It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, he would admit. The man was warm and soft and, close as they were; it was more comfortable than trying to not touch the other in such a restricted place. They were also very used to hugging and leaning on the other and that didn’t feel so different. However, while this could have been innocent, Javier’s mind was busy both freaking out and providing him with the weirdest information. Among it, there was the fact that he could smell his friend and he briefly wondered if he tasted as sweet as he smelt. There was also the fact that the small noises Yuzuru emitted while sleeping were the single most adorable thing in the world. And finally, there was the fact that it seemed as if they had been made to curl up together for they fit in every way.

              Javier was not an idiot; he had noticed that Yuzuru had grown over the two years he had known him. He was no longer a boy, and yet he barely felt like a man with his sweet, caring temper. But the telltale sign of this growth had been his body. What had seemed as a pile of skinny limbs flailing everywhere now looked like a slim yet strong form. His face had lost some of its last roundness and his eyes had hardened. The soft innocence of the teenager was slowly receding to let in the maturity and the patience of the grown up. His confidence had grown as well, from just showing on the line of his back to backing every one of his movements. He may not have the aura of an adult yet but his grace and his charm certainly were mature. Javier had stopped calling him “kid” about half a year ago because that didn’t fit the other anymore, not really.

              That should be the end of the story. His friend was now an adult, cool, now go back to sleep, but it was much weirder. It had been easy to be all touchy-feely with someone he regarded as a little brother, someone to protect and lead through life, but Yuzuru no longer fit that description. They were equals now, he didn’t need protection anymore. The first time that realization had hit Javier, he had spent a couple days wondering if it was still okay touching Yuzuru like he did. Was his hand too low on his hip? Should he stop caressing his cheek to cheer him up? How much of it could actually be considered flirting?

              He wished he could talk about it with his friend, wished he could be truthful and say that he was a bit lost, a bit confused about how comfortable they were and how dangerous the line they walked was. Indeed, always being so close, spending time together like that, people were starting to make stupid assumptions. And yet, lying in bed with him, an arm thrown around the Japanese’s waist, he wondered if these assumptions were that stupid.

              He got up before he could spend more times entertaining weird ideas in his mind and before he could make it awkward between them. They were friends, Yuzuru trusted him enough to sleep in the same bed as him, to hug him in comfort and to let him touch his body because they had settled it was friendly. And the weird, dirty ideas that had erupted in his mind while he was snuggled against the other man’s back had betrayed his trust. He tried to get out of the bed without waking up its other occupant but a hand closed on his wrist.

“You wake? So soon?” he heard Yuzuru grumble, his English not yet up to its usual standard.

“I can’t sleep anymore,” he said in a small voice, turning around to face his friend.

              Maybe he should have noticed earlier how his mind kept recalling him how beautiful Yuzuru could be. Because there was no denying that, in that very instant, all he could think about was how his beautiful eyes seemed unable to stay open. And how cute his little sad and tired expression seemed.

“You sleep in my bed?”

“Yep, I think I’ll go up there, I’m too warm here.”

“’Kay. Sleep well.”

              And with that Yuzuru went back to sleep and Javier found himself staring at him with both guilt and a new feeling he wasn’t sure he felt like really acknowledging bubbling in his chest.

 

              He failed to qualify for the Grand Prix Final in Fukuokua, but they were so close to the Olympics that he couldn’t abandon Brian for more than a week, so he went there both to train and cheer on his training mate. He never thought he would be able not to get to compete there but it did take a huge burden off his shoulders, especially with the European Championships and the Olympics just around the corner. It gave him more time to focus and train without putting the pressure of having to compete against Yuzuru.

              It was weird between them lately. The Japanese man was so focused on his dream Olympic Gold medal that he hardly took any time to do anything else than practice. On the other hand, Javier was still trying to deal with the realization that had dawned on his that morning a month ago. That feeling that maybe there was more to their relationship than just friendship, at least on his side. He wasn’t sure if it was lust or something deeper, but he always felt tenser around the other man. Would notice the stupidest thing like how elegant the curve of his neck was or how soft his hands seemed. He kept it for himself because that was just weird and he didn’t want to make Yuzu uncomfortable, but it left him confused and wanting of something he couldn’t quite understand.

              On the other hand, no matter how awkward he could feel around Yuzuru, it was still better than with Cortney. He didn’t really know what was happening in their relationship, didn’t see it going anywhere and she seemed to think the same thing. But while she was all for letting go, he had asked her for one more chance and then had fled the country for about a month, making her understandably upset again. He guessed he would have to talk with her when coming back from Japan in about a week.

              Someone called him and he focused on his surroundings. He was standing in the backstage area with Kikuchi-san and Brian, watching his friend running around, headphones in and determination shining in his eyes.

“Javi,” Brian repeated, “are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he lied, “just tired.”

Brian didn’t look convinced. “You will qualify next year, I have no doubt about that, you have had so many issues with your boots, it’s normal that you had the season you had; And even for someone without boot problems, that was pretty decent, so don’t worry.”

Javier shook his head. “I don’t care. I think it’s good because I don’t waste energy on that, I wouldn’t win, anyway. I’m just a bit tired I guess.”

              Brian kept looking at him for a moment and he wondered if the Canadian had mind-reading abilities for he didn’t seem convinced at all. The thing was that no, he didn’t feel well, but no, that had nothing to do with his inability to qualify here. He was done being ridiculous, thank you very much. He felt like his coach was about to say something to him when Yuzuru trotted back to them to ask their mentor to help him get in focus.

 

              Yuzuru won the Grand Prix and they went back to Canada with a renewed optimism for the Olympics. After all, training in his old boots made Javier much more consistent (and confident) and Yuzuru had just beat Patrick Chan by a good thirteen points. And if he had hugged Yuzuru a little too tight when he came back from his free skate, nobody would know.

 

              Months passed in a blur with Yuzuru becoming Olympic champion and Javier landing off podium, disappointed and bitter. He had trained hard these past years and had hoped for a medal with all his will power, but it hadn’t been enough. Instead of wallowing in these negative feelings, he tried to feel only joy and pride for his training mate who was now standing on top of the world, a radiant smile on his face and a huge golden medal hanging from his neck. And maybe he ought to feel worse, but the expression on Yuzuru’s face every time he got to hear that he was an Olympic champion made his heart skip a beat.

 

              He had done it again. Worlds 2014, Javier got his second bronze medal in a row, redeeming himself for the Olympics, and on his right stood Yuzuru, another pretty shiny medal around his neck, smiling to everyone and everything. At nineteen, he had won the three most important competitions of their sports with very good scores. He deserved every ounce of respect that was given to him.

              On the other hand, while Javier was infinitely proud of his friend, he started to feel like maybe he was undeserving to step on the same podium. It was stupid, Yuzuru was a human being and he could fail, but there was such a command in his performances, such an unnatural confidence, that he found himself feeling rather irrelevant. What could he offer that the Japanese didn’t offer as well? His only difference to his friend was his ability to land his quad Salchow on his feet and not his butt, but even that would probably disappear in time, right?

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next season reinforced that feeling. Past the Cup of China where he felt like his heart had stopped beating, seeing his friend and training mate lying on the ice, blood staining the smooth skin of his throat and mind foggy, things had started again for the Japanese. He wasn’t on top of his game in the NHK Trophy, but he wouldn’t stay down forever, would he?

Javier had looked forward to the Grand Prix Final in Barcelona. He wanted to inspire people in Spain to try skating, wanted to convey his passion for the sport and not be the only one fighting for a medal for his country. He wanted that gold medal, he deserved it. That would be such a symbolic moment, standing on top of the podium, receiving the reward for his hard work and being the first man from Spain to ever win an ISU Grand Prix Final gold medal…

However, his dream shattered before it was really a possibility. He was backstage when Yuzuru took the ice, but he heard everything. The music rising, the delicate touches of the piano helping him picture his friend’s airy form, the cheers of the crowd at every jump, and finally, its roar when the music died. The noise went through him leaving him distressed, panicked. He had no doubt in his mind that Yuzuru could enchant the hell out of a crowd and provide them with the best short program that had ever existed, and he wasn’t sure if he could even pretend to compete with that. He stayed away from the screen but Brian’s smile when he came to check on him gave him all the answers he could possibly need.

He still had about thirty minutes before he could get on the ice, warming up, and the unease grew in his body. He was in Spain, performing in front of an audience that saw him as the only hope in Spain’s men figure skating. He had to deliver a clean, good short program. And, somehow, he had to beat the World and Olympic Champion in the process. He tried to no let the pressure become too much, but when he finally got to remove his guards, his hands were shaking pretty badly. He attempted to perform but fell on his opening quad Salchow and doubled his triple Lutz. It felt just like when he had first learnt the program with David, not knowing exactly where to go and what to do. He was lost in the sound of the crowd cheering for him, in the sea of Spanish flags and in his own self-doubt.

Exiting the ice, he felt like crying. Of all of his bad performances in his life, none had left such a bitter taste in his mouth. Spanish people usually heard about him because of his successes, and now that he had been given the chance to prove them his talent, he had crashed. He joined Brian, head hung low and jaw tight. They went to the Kiss and Cry and the poor 79.18 points he received tasted like disappointment and failed expectations. His fifth position left him a bit desperate. How could he come back?

“Brian?” He called his coach who was helping him gather his stuff. “How much did Yuzu get?”

“94.08,” replied the Canadian with a shrug. “He fell on his triple Lutz triple toe.”

              94.08. That was not a huge score for his training mate, but it was still fifteen points higher than him. To dream of scoring higher than him, Javier could only hope that he would skate clean and that Yuzu would fail. This was unlikely.

              Brian stayed at the rink, waiting for his Japanese student while his other one just went back to the hotel. He was trying to avoid the Spanish media and thought that leaving before the end of the press conference would allow him to do just that. He collapsed in his bed, discouraged. The win was out of his reach. Yuzuru was too good to be beaten, even only a couple weeks after his terrible accident. He was still under the weather; everyone at the Cricket Club knew that. And even sick, tired and traumatized, he was still so much better than everyone else…

              He had no idea how long he stayed lying on this bed, just thinking about what he could do to salvage his pride and ambition. He may not be able to beat the Olympic champion now, but surely Machida could be beaten. He was inconsistent and only 7 points ahead of him. Javier could do it; he had a high base value, second only to his friend and he had consistently good component scores. He couldn’t do anything about his short program anymore, he had to focus on winning the free skate and get on the podium.

              He heard a knock at his door so he got up, arranged his hair a little bit and went to open. Brian was standing there with a little smile and a bouquet in his hand. Javier let him in with just a nod, wondering why his coach would pay him a visit after – he checked his watch- eleven. They both sat down and Javier waited for his coach to take over.

The Canadian handed him the flowers. “Here, some of yours fan were waiting for you outside of the rink but you were already gone. They asked me to give you that and to tell you not to be too harsh on yourself. They were lovely.”

“Thank you,” smiled Javier, delicately taking the flowers. “I should probably have stayed to talk to some people…”

“You did what you had to do in order to feel better, nobody will blame you for that,” replied Brian.

“I’m not sure I feel better. I mean, now that it’s done I can hope for nothing but silver.”

“Silver is good, you know,” Brian reminded him. “You qualifying here is amazing because you are among the top six skaters in the world. You getting on the podium is fantastic because you would be in the top three.”

“Yuzu never settles for silver,” Javier blurted out. “He always hates it when he doesn’t get gold. Why should I be happy with it?”

“Javi…”

“I’m not as good as him, I get it, but sometimes I just wish I could exist, you know? Not just be Yuzu’s training mate but be his true competitor, being able to be compared to him at all…”

              They stayed silent for a moment after this little outburst with the Spaniard already feeling guilty. He shouldn’t have shouted at his coach, he had only come to check on him. And he couldn’t resent Yuzuru either, it was not his fault if he was so much better than everyone else. Winning was only up to Javier, not to his team or partners, he was the only one to blame if he failed.

“Sorry…”

“Why didn’t you tell me you felt that way before?” Asked Brian, concerned.

“It’s unfair to Yuzu. He encourages me, always trying to push me and I only feel jealous about his success that he has worked so hard to achieve…”

“You need to tell me about your feelings Javi. We could arrange different training sessions so you can focus on yourself, we could just try to go over your feelings so they don’t overwhelm you. Don’t shut us out.”

Javier shook his head. “I wish I didn’t feel that way. That irrelevance. It’s exhausting.”

“You’re not irrelevant,” Brian reassured him. “Yuzuru is not perfect, he is not a god. He fails sometimes, and he hates himself about it just as much as you do. Sometimes he looks at you skating and he asks me if one day he’ll be able to be like you. You both admire each other and sometimes wish you could be the other, but, in the end, you are both unique and very relevant, I hope you will believe me.”

Javier smiled and nodded. “I don’t know if I can but thank you for telling me that. I just need to sleep on that negativity to skate better tomorrow I guess.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” Said Brian, getting ready to go. “And stop worrying, you’ll do just fine tomorrow, I have no doubt about it.”

              And Brian had been right. Javier had a great skate the next evening, only singling a planned triple Lutz, but then there was Yuzuru who not only under-rotated his but fell on it as well. And, in the end, he got the silver medal he could have hoped for. And as he stood on that podium, arm around his friend’s waist, he felt a little bit better. The hug they shared before parting for the night that evening made his heart flutter.

 

              And then they faced each other again in Shanghai. They had spent less than a week in close vicinity in the past three months and there was an awkward feeling between them. Yuzuru seemed to be uncomfortable, restless. Brian had to stay with him most of the time because he was so nervous and Javier was just fine. They didn’t have the same amount of pressure put on them. Yuzuru was the absolute favorite, being the reigning World and Olympic champion. Javier was an underdog and he kind of liked it that way. He could focus on skating.

              Maybe that was the reason why he won, or maybe it was because the favorite had too many bad memories in Shanghai. All he could remember was skating between the gifts that had been sent to his friend after his free skate and knowing, by the less than overwhelming response, that the door was opened for him to step in. There was a fall, brutal and unexpected but he got up and nailed the next Triple Axel. He remembered the exhilaration, bathing in the adoration and breathing heavy. He’d done it.

              The score confirmed it. He would at least land on the podium and could possibly get the gold medal. And no matter how good Jason and Han Yan performed, they couldn’t reach him. And as the American’s scores were announced, Javier turned to Yuzuru. He hadn’t really spoken to the Japanese man, knowing how dismayed he must feel and being too excited to be of any help. He hugged Denis and then turned to his training mate.

              It was maybe cliché to think about it, but his friend’s eyes were an ocean of contradictory feelings. There was disappointment, joy, shame and so much pride. They hugged and Javier wished he didn’t have to let go because nothing had ever felt more right in his life than holding Yuzuru in his arms in such a glorious moment for him. Maybe it was tactless to be so happy when the other one was probably feeling so low, but he couldn’t help it. And when Yuzuru breathed congratulation against the skin of his neck, he shivered. And when they parted a little and that he saw the younger skater crying, he couldn’t help but wipe the tears with a brush of his fingers.

              That’s in that exact moment, looking at the tear-stricken face of his training mate, that Javier knew he wanted much more than just friendship from that man. He wanted to erase those tears and comfort him. He wanted to kiss him better and hold him against him. So he did the next best thing and hugged him again.

“You’ll always be my champion,” he admitted in a low voice, trying to convey all his feelings.

              He didn’t have time to know if the message had been received, Brian had already come back and was ushering them towards the ice with kind words for the both of them. And everyone pretended not to see the Japanese man dabbing at his eyes carefully in a corner and they joked around. They all somehow knew the feeling of crashing and knew not to bother him.

              The ceremony went by in an instant of blissful glory, standing on the podium and watching his flag rise in the center, the Spanish anthem resonating for the very first time in a World Championships venue, making his heart soar. Maybe he had not been able to beat Yuzuru during the Grand Prix Final, but did it really matter now? He was still in the game, still relevant, and that realization left Javier feeling happier than ever.

              However happy he was, he was not a bad friend, and after the press conference, he kidnapped Yuzuru. He’d asked Han Yan where to go for coffee and the other skater had shown him how to get to the Bund, allegedly the most beautiful part of the city, still reminding him that he didn’t know the place that well. He took his friend there, enjoying the striking view on Pudong, the financial heart of mainland China. They sat in one of the many rooftop bars and ordered their drinks.

“Thanks for coming,” started Javier.

“Of course.”

“I know you. I guess you’d like to be alone, I know you’re disappointed.”

Yuzuru diverted his eyes. “I’m very happy Javi won.”

The Spaniard smiled fondly. “Come on. We both know that it’s true but that you would have preferred to step on top.” There was a silence. “I don’t blame you, you know. I feel like that all the time when I can’t reach the highest step, it’s fine. We are competitors; you don’t have to feel bad.”

“I don’t like it,” whispered the Japanese man, focusing on his tea. “You work hard and I skate bad. You deserve it, I don’t. I must be happy.”

“You can’t control your feelings, _cariño_ ,” he stated it, hoping the other one wouldn’t notice the slip-up. Now was not the time to discuss feelings. “It’s fine, don’t worry. I just don’t want you to beat yourself over this, I have no doubt you’ll take that title away from me next year.” He winked but did not even receive a smile as an answer.

“I am horrible person,” Yuzuru forced between his teeth. “You are nice with me and you care for me and you should celebrate. But you stay with me and tell me nice things, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Yuzu, really. It’s human and that’s reassuring. This level of perfection was worrying. Let’s enjoy the city before it’s too late okay? I was thinking of walking around afterwards, apparently there is a huge shiny street around here and I’ve heard it was pretty impressive. Would you be down for it?” He saw the incomprehension on his friend’s face. “I mean, want to visit?”

              There was a tentative smile appearing on the Japanese man’s lips, something akin to relief. He just nodded and finished his tea in one go. Javier soon imitated him and they got ready to leave. As they were about to start walking, he found himself in a warm embrace. Yuzuru’s arms snaked around his waist and his face ended up nuzzled in his neck. It felt intimate, maybe too intimate for Javi’s heart, giving him a taste of what it longed for. He closed his arms around his friend as well, putting his hand at the nape of his neck. He wanted to stay that way forever.

 

* * *

 

 

              Javier flew to Japan in May, ready to tour with about twenty other skaters, including Yuzuru. It was his third year doing this particular show and he knew most of the skaters in it. They would tour for three weeks. Afterwards, he would stay for a couple days before going back to Spain for a week and then Toronto. Only thinking about all the planes and times zones he would have to use, he already felt exhausted. And as the days passed by, he noticed a pattern. Yuzuru and him didn’t usually communicate with each other if they were not in the same city but here, they could be standing twenty centimeters away from each other and the Japanese ace would find someone else to embark in a rapid-fire conversation in a language he couldn’t possibly understand let alone speak.

 

              Without the help of his friend and with the presence of only a couple of people he actually liked, Javier didn’t have the best of times during the shows. He would go out there, joke about SuperJavi and would only come back for the finale. Then, he would pack his stuff and spend the rest of the day or of the evening in his room or with some skater he barely knew and who would be just as bored as him. How he wished the Shibutanis were here… When, finally the three weeks came to an end, he started considering leaving Japan early. He didn’t feel like staying and he could probably make an excuse up so the producers would agree to pay for a change in his flight.

              However, the night before the last representation, someone knocked on his door. He opened it to find Yuzuru in his pajamas, his laptop in hand and a nervous smile twisting his features. Javier was tempted to slam the door on his face and go to sleep with his anger because after three weeks of being ignored, he really didn’t feel like socializing.

“Hi,” Yuzuru greeted him. “I think we can talk and watch show.”

“Why now?”

There was a silence. “Can I come?”

              The Spaniard sighed. He wanted to speak to his friend, wanted to hug him and to catch up with him. They had so much to say to each other, if only because they hadn’t for about two months, but also because Javier had decided that he wanted to talk about what they were. He didn’t have high hopes but he had to say it out loud once to move on. And you didn’t get to that level of competition without taking leaps of faith.

He opened the door. “Go. You can put your laptop down; we have to catch up first.”

              They both sat down on the bed, back against the frame in a somewhat uncomfortable silence. Javier didn’t know where to start, if he should talk about his feelings or ask about the fact that his friend had avoided him for so long and so obviously. He also wondered if it would be too much if he leant a little more against the other’s shoulder. He missed him.

“I’m sorry,” started Yuzuru. “I know I bad friend, I don’t want be mean. I need time and space.”

“Is that because of the Worlds? Because I told you it was fine.”

“No. Not worlds. Just me as person. I need think before next season. I’m sorry.”

“Are you alright?” Javier wasn’t sure if his chest was tight with worry or just the need to embrace his friend to give him comfort.

“I will,” asserted Yuzuru. “But I’m tired away from people I care so I come say sorry.”

“It’s fine, I guess,” answered Javier finally surrendering to his gut feelings and placing his arm around the Japanese’s shoulders. “You know if you want to talk about it you can come to me, right?”

“ _Hai_.”

“Good. Now you brought your laptop. Could you stay for a movie? That’s my punishment.”

              His joke was lame but Yuzuru let out a relieved laugh and hit him playfully in the chest. The Spaniard felt his heart missing a beat just for the picture of his friend with his messy hair and his glasses. He was so beautiful and so delicate, how was he supposed to stay away from him? How was he supposed to resist him?

              They settled against the bed frame, Yuzuru claiming his previous position against Javier’s side, his laptop precariously balancing on his knees, an anime playing in the background. The Japanese man had hooked his European friend on them and they were the easiest thing to watch because Yuzuru understood the words and Javi the subtitles. It would have been like any other day spent like this if the younger skater had not decided to suddenly grab one of the other’s hands and play with his fingers idly. The gesture felt intimate, somehow, caring. It made Javier want to do stupid things like kiss his forehead. And before he knew it, he was doing just that.

              Yuzuru turned around suddenly, riveting his eyes to his friend’s. He didn’t seem hostile, just curious. They might be very close but they were absolutely not used to kissing in any way of form. That had always been rather too far beyond the younger skater’s boundaries and comfort zone. To do this now was just a spur of the moment and Javier wasn’t sure how to explain this without first confessing his feelings. He took a deep breath and took his arm off the other’s shoulder but let him keep his hand.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, I…”

“Is fine,” said Yuzuru with a shrug. “We can go back?”

He was about to hit play when Javier stopped his hand. “I have something to tell you, Yuzu…”

“What it is?”

              They locked eyes and the Spaniard was not sure that he could take that step. He was sitting next to the man he had once compared to his wife because they basically lived together every day. They were each other’s best friend in Toronto; they just understood each other without words. Brian sometimes joked about them being his sportsmanship miracle because they might be rivals but they pushed the other forward, going out of their way to help him. They would spend their breaks sitting together commenting on the other’s program. They sometimes had dinner at Yuzuru’s place. Long story short, the man next to him had somehow found his way on the list of people he trusted unconditionally. He wasn’t sure he wanted to ruin that relationship of theirs.

              On the other hand, ever since he had realized his feelings, Javier tended to get awkward around his friend. It felt wrong to fake only being friends when all he wanted was to make the man happy. Build something with him. Be just as special to Yuzuru as he was for him. Sleeping in the same bed, a thing they had done so often had now become weird and uncomfortable. He hated the feeling of lying to someone he cared so much about.

              He was about to start his rant when Yuzuru put en encouraging hand on his arm, conveying patience and openness in such a simple gesture that Javier felt like crying. His eyes were soft and caring and his lips twisted in a soothing smile. Everything about him felt like home and quiet evenings curled up on a couch, something Javier craved.

So he leapt.

“Yuzu… I don’t know how to say but the shortest way to sum this up is I think, no, I’m sure that I’m in love with you, and I sorry if you don’t feel that way and I want us to stay friends and…”

              He was rambling, he knew it, but he wasn’t sure how to keep going. He had no idea what to think about Yuzuru’s feelings about him, had never wanted to assume. However, he felt the hand which had been playing with his fingers let go, and before he could fear the rejection, it was on his face. He couldn’t read those deep eyes fixed on him at this moment but that didn’t feel like rejection at all. It felt as if Yuzuru was also about to take a leap of faith.

“I can kiss you?” He asked, and Javier could hear the blush in his voice so he just nodded.

              He had dreamt many times of this, of Yuzuru closing the gap between them to brush his lips. He had imagined it confident and soft and warm. The actual thing was relatively awkward because they were sitting next to each other making the angle of their necks absolutely terrible. And it was clear, in about two seconds, that Yuzuru had probably never kissed anyone before. Or just had never practiced enough to excel at it. It was still a nice kiss for it marked the beginning of something new and exciting, but it was not the best one Javier had ever had. Well, hopefully he would get to become even more of a training mate for Yuzuru, right?

They leaned back, both smiling like idiots and the Spaniard was sure that the other could see him actually blushing, which was rather ridiculous. “I guess it means that you are not appalled by my feelings for you?” He asked.

“I like you for long time, Javi,” giggled the Japanese man. “I try make you understand but you never see.”

Javier felt mortification washing over him. “I’m sorry. I can be dense.”

“You can and I wait long time,” Yuzuru pouted, “you apologize. Kiss me?”

              Who was Javier to deny his friend? He laughed a little and sat facing him. He cupped the younger skater’s face and leaned in slowly, bubbles of happiness sparkling in his stomach. He felt like a teenager again. He started by kissing his nose, his forehead, his cheeks, his temples and felt Yuzuru shiver under his hands. He then proceeded to slowly, softly kiss his lips. His mind tried to grasp the reality of the situation, their mouths moving in unison, the Japanese man’s hands on his waist, caressing his hipbone over his shirt, it was surreal.

              He broke the kiss and pressed his lips to the other’s nose before sitting back a good half a meter away. Yuzuru puckered his lips but Javier just laughed and grabbed both of his hands. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling which must have given him an idiotic look, but this was just so much more than he had hoped for going into this conversation. He had expected a polite rejection but now he had to physically hold the man he loved away to be able to talk. This was just about perfect.

“Why stop?” complained Yuzuru and Javier just rolled his eyes.

“We have to talk about it, _cariño_. Talk about what we want and how comfortable you are with all of this.” He pointed at the both of them.

              Yuzuru sighed and lied down entirely on the bed, eyes fixed to the ceiling, not really cooperative but not refusing either. Javier decided to imitate him and adopted the same position so their arms would be pressed together. He took the other’s hand in his and started playing with his finger idly.

“I think we don’t need talk,” indicated Yuzuru in a low voice. “I like you, you like me, is easy.”

“I wish it were that easy, Yuzu, but we are adults, and a lot of attention lies on you. So what do we do? I’d like to have you as my boyfriend but do you want the same? And do we want to tell anyone or is it just you and me? Do we make changes in the way we act outside at all or not? How comfortable are you with the physical aspect of things? It may sound stupid and silly but I am serious about this. I like you,” saying it always made his heart flutter, “and I want to make you happy, but I can’t read your mind.”

Yuzuru seemed to ponder everything. “I want be your boyfriend,” he whispered slowly, “I want us together. But we can’t tell people. Too much to think about. Sponsors won’t like it. People are mean to us. Media wants to know too much. Relations are private. I hope you understand…”

Javier smiled softly, they were going somewhere. “I do, _cariño_ , I do. And as long as you are my boyfriend, I don’t really care about the rest, to be honest.”

He was about to let out a laugh but, in one swift move, Yuzuru had rolled on his side and was hovering above his lips, his eyes fixed on them. The older skater did not know if he should move so he stayed in his position, his hands aching to caress the other’s face and his entire body wanting to move closer. And finally Yuzuru leaned in and brushed his lips. It was not enough, clearly, but he suspected that tonight had marked his boyfriend’s first kiss and he wasn’t about to assault him with the heavier stuff without being given proper permission.

“I really like you,” whispered Yuzuru against his lips and Javier would lie if he didn’t admit that he did flip them around and kissed him a bit more passionately because of this confession. Well, he had tried, and Yuzuru let him.

 

              They kept meeting in secret, behind closed doors, always at Javier’s apartment, and, depending on the time of the season, every night or only a couple times a month. There was never any rush between them, no real emergency. They knew the other would be here in the morning and the night after, or maybe a week later, but they were in love and they were sure. And so started the 2015-2016 season. After Yuzuru’s disastrous start at Skate Canada, things started to clear up. Javier won both of his Grand Prix events with ease. Then, Yuzuru took the world by storm.

              Javier could remember it by heart. He had been lounging on the couch, nursing a cup of coffee to try and stay awake. Practice had been hard that day but if he wanted to see his boyfriend skate, he had to keep his eyes open. Why did he have to be invited at the NHK trophy, so many hours ahead of him?

              When the event started, Javier stopped mentally complaining. There were so many good skaters at this event this year, so many potential competitors, he had to pay attention to what was happening because a couple of them could end up in the final with him. Among them there were Maxim Kovtun and Michal Brezina, but above all, there was Boyang Jin. The kid was eighteen and still lacking in artistry but his technique was impeccable. The rest would come in time, there was no doubt about that, and Javier really wished he would retire before Mr. Quad Lutz – Triple Toe would peak. He wasn’t fond of being ridiculed, weirdly enough, and Yuzu did that too much already.

              The skaters came and, with the exception of Boyang, no one really caught his eyes. The programs were not bad but usually rather poorly performed. The men would step out of their jumps, trip on their landings and pop their jumps in every program, and after half an hour of this mess, Javier really felt like going to bed. The only thing that kept him up was the cheers of the crowd when a figure in a white and blue shirt set foot on the ice.

              Yuzuru didn’t look his best in that costume, Javier would admit. Of course, the shirt was much prettier than many other outfits his boyfriend had worn in the past, but the rhinestones and veil did not flaunt him. At least his free skate costume was nothing short of stunning with the intricate patterns and rather unremarkable golden embroideries.

              Thoughts about costumes and distasteful glitter were pushed away when the first notes echoed in the arena. The Spaniard loved the music Jeffrey had chosen and the way it enhanced Yuzuru’s fantastic skating skills and the delicacy of each of his movements. For two minutes and a half he acted like a madman, shouting encouragements and exploding with pride at the end of the program. These had been two minutes and a half of perfection. And when the scores popped on the screen, he couldn’t help but grin. His lover had done it again. He had broken his previous world record by five points. The day after, when he skated the best free skate the world had ever seen, he felt just as proud.

              But both nights, when he went to bed, thinking about Barcelona and what to expect there, thinking about his chances of getting a medal, he felt ashamed of himself. He was proud of Yuzuru, of all of what his hard work had led him to win, of all he was doing for the sport, but he set such a high bar for the rest of the crowd. They had all taken for granted that the 300 points mark was unbreakable and Yuzuru had wrecked it with such ease. Was there a point in going to Barcelona and fight for smaller medals while getting humiliated by Yuzuru’s talent? He knew this might be a bit stupid, he was a top figure skater and Yuzuru could, objectively, fail. But there was a feeling of irrelevance and insecurity overwhelming him after the beauty of what had happened.

 

              Two weeks later, Yuzuru pulled another perfect performance and, as he was standing in the middle of the rink, arms open and bathing in the glory, Javier wondered for the first time what he was doing here, at this level. Sure he could kind of jump, his spins were correct, but how could he end up here and hope no one would see who he was? As he climbed on the second step of the podium, no one really paying attention to him, Javier felt like crying. He felt wrong, stupid and clumsy next to his lover who seemed to be unable to fail, lately.

              He was happy for him, of course, but there was this idea in his head that, maybe, Javier was not enough. Maybe he was an imposter. He had won the world title but in no way deserved it more than his partner. He didn’t have the same skating skills, his spins were not as fast, nor were they as centered. His jumps were alright but not outstanding. He had scored above two hundred points but, to him, it felt more like the judges had been a bit enthusiastic about getting closer to Yuzuru and giving him points for that. The dread and shame he felt left a bitter taste in his mouth.

              Bowing his head, he started waiting for the end of the event, more than ready to go hide in his bed. His hometown crowd kept cheering for someone that was not their local hero and it felt wrong for him to stand next to the object of their praises. They went through the evening in a blur and, as soon as they were released, he fled the arena, leaving Yuzuru to deal with the media that still wanted to hear from him.

              He had arrived at the hotel in a record twenty minutes and was all but running in the elevator, his key card already ready. He got in the cabin with an elegant Asian woman dressed in a navy suit. She caught his eyes on her with a curious smile and it took about a second before she seemed to recognize him.

“You are Yuzuru’s training partner!” She exclaimed, her English heavily accented by what he supposed to be a Chinese accent. “From Spain, right?”

He felt a frown settle on his face and he bit back a nasty remark. “Yes, I’m Javier Fernandez,” he said, holding out his hand. “You are?”

She shook his hand with a firm grip. “Wei Xiaoyun. Journalist for CCTV. I mostly cover pairs but if I could ask you a few questions about you and your relationship with Yuzuru Hanyu…”

              The elevator arrived at the Spaniard’s floor and he exited it without paying attention to what the young woman was saying. He wanted to be home and finally let out his frustration and disappointment. He had skated a good program, but of course it hadn’t been enough for him to take gold. It would never really be enough, would it? He could try his best, but without help from Yuzuru, there was no way he would be able to win, they were just all that irrelevant compared to the man they already called the “Greatest of All Times” at the grand old age of twenty-one. The worst was that, that night had finished proving to him that his World title was a scam; a present handed on a silver platter to him by Yuzuru. He didn’t deserve it, had only won it because the other had allowed him to.

The Final had proven that he was no competition to him, would never be. The Japanese man was no normal figure skater; he was untouchable, made of diamond and steel, of silk and titanium. Shame flooded in him, making him regret even stealing the World title from its rightful owner.

              Yuzuru did not come that night, or the following for that matter and had not said a word to him after the Short Program. He was too busy being worshiped by the rest of the world was too busy for his suddenly very insecure, very depressed boyfriend. He didn’t even see through the fake smile during the final banquet and barely kissed him goodbye at the hotel before leaving for three weeks in Japan.

             

              Three days later, Javier was back in his bed, curled under his soft blankets with Effie claiming Yuzuru’s usual spot, as she always did when he was absent. She liked the Japanese boy but he tended to not like her sleeping in their bed with them as her fur made his asthma kick up. The jet lag had been terrible, and the Spaniard had been grateful to finally be able to collapse in bed after a tedious day of training.

              It was about two in the morning when the horrendous sound of his phone cut the darkness like a knife, scaring the cat away and waking Javier. Grunting, he fumbled for it but did not reach it in time to take what was apparently a call from an unknown number. Before he had time to register what his screen displayed, the damn thing started ringing again and he reluctantly picked up.

“¿ _Son las dos de la mañana, que quieres ? »_ He mumbled, not really paying attention to the language he was speaking.

              His voice was hoarse and his mind foggy, while, on the other end of the line, another person was shouting panicked sounds that vaguely resembled English at a speed way beyond Javi’s abilities given the current conditions. He sighed and rubbed his eyes, trying to chase the sleep away.

“Yuzu?”

“ _Hai._ You sleep?” Asked the Japanese man, trying to slow down.

“Yes, that’s what people usually do at two in the morning,” he complained.

“I need talk to you,” explained Yuzuru. “We are bad situation.”

The following mess of sounds and panicked exclamations barely registered in Javier’s mind and he found himself unable to pick up on the issue that made his boyfriend so nervous. He tried to interrupt him but the other one kept talking louder and more rapidly so he gave up and waited for the end.

“ _Cariño_ , you have to slow down, I have no idea what you are talking about.”

 “Javi, a girl has pictures of us when we go out your apartment before we go to Barcelona!” came the, still as panicked, but much more understandable, answer. “She post them on Internet!”

              The Spaniard could remember that, to make things easier, and because they could, they’d both slept at his place the night before the flight so they could leave together for the airport. He stifled a moan and rubbed his eyes, slightly confused by the situation.

“And?” He asked.

              There couldn’t be anything compromising about these pictures. Yuzu slept at his place often enough to have his stuff around and to be able to always look normal in the morning. Plus, before a competition, they usually cuddled to sleep, not exactly something that left visible marks on their bodies. The picture could only have them walking side by side, Javi a coffee in his hand and both rolling their suitcases behind them with practiced ease. Not scandal worthy then.

“Everyone ask me if we are together!” Shouted the younger one. “My family, my old schoolmates and even Brian call me to know if we date. Media wants I say something because they think we too close and we hide.”

              Javier sighed, trying to find words of comfort for his lover. They had talked before about keeping it low profile. After all, whether or not they spent a significant amount of their time kissing and cuddling was no one’s business but theirs. And neither Japan nor Spain could be regarded as the most progressive places in the world, especially about homosexuality.

“What did you tell them?”

“I tell them I just stay because it is more easy to go to airport. That we are not like this. That friends can travel together.” replied the Japanese boy, getting impatient.

“Good.”

“Why you are not worried? Everyone thinks we date and I have to lie.”

“Why would I be? You had a strong point, you coming out of my apartment is no proof we are together. And you know I don’t care that much about what people say, I just don’t want them to interfere with us.”

“I do. Them knowing is not good. We don’t talk about that in Japan.”

              Javier sighed. It was either too late or too early to have this conversation. He’d been avoiding it for a long time because he didn’t want to pressure Yuzuru or to scare him but, at some point, he would have to tell him the truth. He took a deep breath and leapt.

“You are more than just Japanese, cariño; everyone in our sport knows you and most people do talk about that kind of stuff. And about you. They want to know you. But you said they were wrong, and then it’s over. It’s fine.”

              He could hear his partner fuming on the other side, apparently having expected a much stronger reaction than the one he got. Javier didn’t know what else to say, Yuzuru had dealt with the media in the correct way and there weren’t so many options to begin with. Also, it was hard emphasizing with him when his brain wasn’t even fully wired to the situation.  
“You don’t help a lot.” came the disappointed, bitter answer.

“You know that I wouldn’t mind people knowing about us, querido…” whispered Javier in the phone, knowing he was entering dangerous grounds. “I don’t care what people think about us, as long as we deal with it well. I know you want us to keep it a secret…”

“If I remember correct, when we talk about it, you say you don’t want people know about us.” Yuzuru’s voice was getting tenser by the minute and it seemed obvious that they would end up fighting.

“I didn’t say that. I said I understood that you wanted to keep it low. I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable…”

“So it is my fault and my problem, not yours?”

“That’s not what I said, cariño…”

              Javi knew he was trapped in this situation, nothing he would say would solve the matter and nothing would be articulate enough for him to explain his feelings for Yuzuru and how the important thing for him was for them to stay together. They may have started that relationship on the basis of a mutual crush, but as time had flown by, Javier had realized that his affection was much deeper than what he had expected. Yuzuru was a charming, smart, nice and genuinely funny person. Off the ice he was an awkward, endearing dork and on his skates he was a mesmerizing apparition that graced the earth by simply existing. He was so much more than what everyone saw in him and the Spaniard felt grateful that he was willing to spend time with him. On the other hand, he could be a real pain in the ass when they started fighting and would not hesitate to start attacking the person facing him if that meant he would win the argument.

“I don’t want people know,” declared Yuzuru. “Is that problem?”

“I told you already, I don’t care. My family guessed I had a crush on you and they were more than fine with it, which was my only concern. I love you and I want you to be happy and comfortable.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “When I was little I think I will never say to someone that I like guys like I like girls because they will not like me. They will disappointed in my and I don’t want that. I think I will tell someone if I find someone I really like and we know we will stay together long time. Someone my family knows because then it means he is important…” Confessed Yuzuru, his voice raw and vulnerable.

              Javi could hear it, the struggle to keep calm, and the fear in his voice. He wanted to answer that declaration, wanted to tell him that they still had time, that nothing was lost. He tried to, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t because, as soon as he opened his mouth, a realization hit him. The younger one did not consider him a serious long-time partner. He didn’t think long-term with Javier, didn’t even consider it and had said so in such a rough, nonchalant way that the Spaniard couldn’t contain his insecurities. They overwhelmed him. His voice died in his throat while he kept hearing muffled sounds on the other end of the line.

“Need time to think.” Was Yuzuru’s eventual declaration before hanging up.

And Javier was left, phone stuck to his ear, tears threatening to spill over his face. Everything had been alright until the implications of his lover’s speech had hit him full in the face. And his insecurities sang in his head. _You are not enough, never have been, never will be. You both know you don’t deserve him. You are irrelevant, like all the others, crawling at his feet but never on his level._

 

* * *

 

 

              Javier was highly annoyed. Yuzuru had just come back from an impromptu three weeks in Japan about which he had not warned him about. Well, he had once Javier had called him to know where he had been this past week, and why he was not picking his phone. The Japanese had calmly explained that his family had invited him over for a few weeks and that he had gone on a whim. Without warning his partner who’d been intrigued, worried and then terrified about not seeing his lover and not hearing from him, assuming that he must have done something to upset the young man. And now that he had come back, he was still waiting for an apology.

              When it didn’t come, he decided to serve to Yuzuru the same medicine he had been receiving this past year or so. He had been invited for a series of ice shows across Japan to celebrate his newly acquired second world title and decided to fly there without telling Yuzuru. Of course, he would only be gone for two weeks or so, not several months, but that should help him get his point across.

              Or so he had thought. Three days in his trip in Japan and he had yet to hear from his lover in any way. Sadness and anger boiled in his stomach every time his brain sidetracked him to the smiling face of the man who was currently living a Javier-less life in Canada. How could Yuzuru not care or if he was here or not? They had been an item for at least a year and yet, it felt as if their relationship was just every bit as unsteady as it had been in the first couple of weeks.

              It was on the fifth day that his phone finally started playing the special ringtone he had for his “other half”, a cheesy Japanese song that the boy had always seemed to love beyond reason. He picked up, cursing loudly and ready to start a war.

“Finally!” He exclaimed.

“Hi!” said Yuzuru, quite joyful. “I just arrived home but you’re not here. I thought you had scheduled morning sessions during summer?”

              Javier stood there, in the middle of his crappy, lonely hotel room, mouth agape and fury blazing in his veins. How dared Yuzuru not even be aware he had not been home for nearly a week? How could he call him tonight asking if he was home as if it had not been so long since they had even shared a word?

“I’m in Japan, Yuzu.” He said, too baffled to even express his anger. “I have been here for the past five days. I would have hoped that, by now, you would have asked about my whereabouts to Brian, if not to me.”

              Only silence met his explanation and a rare awkward silence fell onto them. Javier wanted to shout, to express how Yuzuru not noticing his absence made him feel useless, unwanted. Nothing but a decorative object you would notice you had lost after a few days before shrugging off and continuing your life. Of course, as an athlete, he understood that sometimes, training got a bit intense and you would get absolutely clueless after an especially tiring session, but how could his lover not notice that he had been gone for so long when he spent half of his time in the other’s apartment?

“I am sorry.” Said Yuzuru in a very small, shameful voice.

              Javier didn’t feel like replying so he just hung up, grabbed his jacket and wallet and left the hotel for a walk. He needed to distract his mind from the renewed feeling of irrelevance, of uselessness. He abandoned his phone on the mattress and almost ran downstairs.

              The air in Osaka was warm but not suffocating and he released a breath he hadn’t noticed he had been holding. He started wandering the streets, both focusing on his failing relationship and trying to avoid thinking about it. He loved Yuzuru. He felt it at every moment of the day, when he woke up with his heat against his side, when they goofed around while getting ready for practice, skating on the same ice, eating lunch outside of the club, enjoying the first days of spring in Toronto… And when he was alone, he felt it even more, the absence of laughter in his apartment, the cold nights tossing and turning around, looking for a frail body to hold, the moments he forgot how it felt to kiss his lover or how he would feel amazed by just watching him being. Every parting was a moment of pain and each reunion was a celebration.

              He was desperately in love, holding the image of his partner close to his heart, cherishing the times where they could be Javi and Yuzu, cariño and baka together (he had never loved being called an idiot more than by Yuzuru, he was that kind of hopeless fool in love). But there had been a growing fear in his heart, one he did not want to let explode because he was not sure if they could survive it.

              He knew, because Yuzuru had told him countless times, that he was loved. He could sometimes see a very special spark in his lover’s eyes, could hear the fondness in his voice when he was talking to him. But maybe that was what he had convinced himself to believe? Could you call what they had love if the younger one didn’t even notice when he was gone when Javier felt every moment apart as necessary suffering to keep their lives balanced? Could he call that a balanced, healthy, loving relationship? Were they holding each other back, preventing the other from achieving their dreams because they required too much from him?

              He really didn’t want to answer those questions. He loved Yuzuru and was almost convinced that he was loved back, so surely, their relation could work out? Surely they could make things better, talk about their issues, about how they felt and try harder? Maybe, no, surely, he could work to lower his expectations so Yuzuru could live his life like he wanted and they could still be happy together? Maybe they didn’t have to end things here just because of petty disagreements? He at least ought to try.

 

              Javier was warming up backstage at the World Championships in Helsinki. He would only compete in about half an hour but he wanted to keep his mind busy and his eyes off the screen that was currently playing his lover’s program. If lovers they still were. He had no idea since Yuzuru had been avoiding him for the past forty eight hours and his mistake in the short program. And Javier had tried to reach to him, had even knocked several times on his hotel room door to remind him nothing was lost, that he could win the competition. If one of them could, it was Yuzuru. But both the door and Yuzuru’s heart had remained closed to him and he had had to watch him from afar, concerned beyond what was reasonable in this conditions. He needed to focus.

              He didn’t want to have to comfort his lover for the third year in a row because he had failed to conquer his world title again but did not want to give it to him either. They were competitors and Javier wanted to keep at least that for himself, since apparently he was never good enough to beat Yuzuru outside of this specific championship.

              He would never admit it, but he wasn’t sure that he would be able to face himself ever again and to maintain a semblance of self-esteem and confidence in his abilities if he were to lose that last title, that string that kept him above young skaters. He was not ready yet to become completely irrelevant to the sport. It was already hard to be irrelevant compared to one person…

              Shaking his head, he was about to start running again when suddenly the entire building seemed to start shaking. His mind briefly wondered if that could be an earthquake but he quickly realized that it was only the crowd above him cheering for his partner and knew instantly that the Japanese man had pulled off the impossible once again. He went to the screen just on time to see the scores appear. 223.20. The highest score ever received for a free skate and the promise of a medal.

              He detached his gaze from the tear-striken face of his boyfriend to start warming up again. He couldn’t let his concentration shatter, no when he was so close. He still had over 10 points over the current leader on the short program and that could potentially make up for the difference in the base value of their skates, right?

              He knew without watching it, that Nathan had failed. The applause this time was much more reserved and the other ones around him had seemed to relax. Only four more skaters to go. Boyang, Patrick, Shoma and himself. He could still make it on the podium. He just needed another skate like the one on Thursday.

              He checked the rankings at the end of Boyang’s skate and sucked in a breath seeing that he had gotten over 300 points overall. The bar was high but he could still make it. When Tracy asked him how he felt, he lied. He was alright, focused and ready to fight. But inside his head, he could already feel his confidence collapse.

              Patrick went and failed which almost got his hopes up. But as he took the ice after Shoma’s skate, he heard his overall score. 319 points. He needed more than 210 points to overcome that score. He couldn’t do it; he was not like Shoma or like Yuzuru. He was just another skater with only three quads. He had correct components scores, he couldn’t do it.

He couldn’t remember exactly how the skate went outside of the voice that doubted him in his mind. He could feel that people were still overwhelmed by the two Japanese guys’ performances; they didn’t really care about what he had to offer. Or at least that’s what he thought. His first combination finished destroying his confidence and he was not surprised when his second quadruple Salchow ended up with him falling on his butt like he so often did in practice. And so what if his triple loop landing went wrong, he couldn’t even pretend to a medal anymore, could he?

              He took his bows, head hung low, and skated back to Brian while trying to pull himself together. He needed to pretend at least for now. He didn’t really pay attention to what was happening in the Kiss and Cry, didn’t notice Yuzuru applauding him, face shadowed by concern. What he did see was the 192.14 points of his skate and the little 4 appearing next to his total score. He felt Tracy stroking his back soothingly but he was already gone.

              He was finally done pretending he was good in the face of the world, Yuzuru had finally stopped handing him the crown, and he had retaken it. Javier’s role here was done. His irrelevance had never been as obvious as now, with him sitting there, two points away from the lowest point of the podium, more than twenty points away from Yuzuru. He was Javier Fernandez, three times Grand Prix Final medalist, a two-time world Champion and five times European Champion. But this year, he’d only medaled in his first two Grand Prix Assignments and in the European Championships. That could hardly be called an achievement, could it?

              He waited to be backstage to let his fake smile crumble. He didn’t care if anyone saw him now, he was done pretending for tonight, and he just craved some comfort. What he wanted most was for his boyfriend to come over and tell him that he was still a good skater, that he was loved and that he would bounce back. He just hoped that Yuzuru would do that. But of course, before everything, the new world champion had to attend the victory ceremony and the press conference and Javi could just pace, alone in the mixed zone.

              He was doing just that, admiring the traffic jam currently in formation in the corridor when he felt a hand on his arm. He turned around to be faced by the person he had wanted to see the most, smiling softly at him. The dark-haired man took his shiny new gold medal away and put it around the neck of his partner, making sure he brushed his cheek unbeknownst to the media around them before taking him in his arms.

“You are still my champion, Javi. You did great, I am proud of you.” Said the Japanese in his best English while taking his in his arms.

              They hugged and Javier felt tears threatening to spill out. He felt calmer hugging the man he loved, being told he was not worthless, that he was still respected by the one who mattered the most. Relief washed over him and he could remember saying those exact words when their situations were reversed. He did not feel like everything was better, did not forget his disappointment, the bitter taste lingering on his tongue, but now, he let himself enjoy the feeling of his partner against him. He would train harder and fight for this medal again. He would tear it away from Yuzuru’s neck and would stand proud again. He now understood why Yuzuru had cried in his arms on the day of his first victory in Shanghai. He felt the same conflicting emotions of pride and bitterness. He longed for his title but couldn’t be prouder of the one who had taken it from him.

              Yuzuru let him go and smiled warmly to him, his eyes shining with what could only be love. Smiling like an idiot, the Spaniard took the medal’s ribbon in his hand and placed it back where it belonged, curled around the Japanese man’s throat, the gold pendant resting on his torso. They shared one last look before Yuzuru had to go to his next interview and Javier was left once again facing the media, waiting for him to explain what had happened.

              It was way too late when he finally got back to his room. His mood had worsened as the evening kept unraveling. The Spanish journalists had followed him all day long to comment on his failure, reminding him that this competition was usually the only one where he always had success. Brian had had to help him escape or he would have started yelling or crying, he didn’t know yet. They had grabbed some dinner with Tracy, Gaby and Elizabeth, Yuzuru’s seat staying empty. Apparently his country’s media was not yet ready to let him go. The girls had kept talking excitedly about their programs and their plans for the off-season and no one had really realized that Javier had been silent, thinking once again about his failed program and his future. If he couldn’t even keep this one medal, should even try earning an Olympic one next year? Should he retire now, while he was still close to the top, before he became laughing stock?

              He knew these were stupid thoughts, one competition alone was not an indicator for his entire career but he couldn’t push these thoughts away and started to freak out internally. What would he do if he was not skating? Would he stay in Toronto? Would he be able to stay with Yuzuru?

              He ended up excusing himself to go sulk in his room. No one deserved to be exposed to his insecurities right now. He just needed to pull himself together, to regain his self confidence. And he needed Yuzuru to do exactly what he had done the last two years, to come over and distract him, to help him out of this dark abyss they both experienced after a disastrous competition.

              It was already ten o’clock and there was still no sign of the Japanese man, no text, no call, no note left under his door. Javier texted him, asking about his whereabouts and if, maybe, he would mind coming to see him tonight, that he needed him right now.

              He remembered the year before, how he had held Yuzuru while he was crying all his pent up frustration out, how he had exposed his disappointment for Javier to see. How they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms in the early morning, both relishing in the other’s presence. It may not have been the celebration Javier had wanted but his partner had needed that and he had not hesitated being there for him.

              In the morning, he had woken up to Yuzuru caressing his torso sweetly, speaking to himself in Japanese in a low, singing voice. They had kissed slowly, tenderly. The Japanese boy had then stared into Javier’s eyes and had taken a deep breath.

“I am thankful that you are here, you know? Yesterday I feel so lonely on the ice, so tired. I could not do well because I hurt so much and I tried but it don’t work. I felt so bad, like I betray the people who believe in me. But you always believe in me and tell me I am better than I think. I don’t know what I would do without you. I love you, Javi.”

              The kissed they had shared after that had been filled with sweetness, with love and with so much hope that they had both known they would be alright in the end. They could rely on each other; they would be there for each other.

              But would they? One year later, Javier was left to go to sleep alone, assaulted by his insecurities, wishing nothing more than to go back in time and take that medal, if that meant that Yuzuru would be here with him, holding him, telling him he loved him. His heart ached and he could not stop his eyes from watering up. He had disappointed so many people today, but most of all himself and he needed his lover to change his mind, to tell him that he would be alright. Was it so much to ask for? Why was it that he was only Yuzuru’s everything when the younger one had nothing else to hold onto?

              When the morning came to find Javier still awake and still torturing himself, it brought with it a text from the Japanese man and another layer of disappointment to the Spaniard.

 **From Yuzu:** _Sorry, fell asleep after dinner with Shoma and Mai. Too tired to come to your room, needed the sleep. See you at gala practice?_

              If the older man shed a few tears after reading the text, no one would know. After all, if his boyfriend didn’t care, who would? He had to learn to pull himself together alone since no one else would care enough to help him. When he went to practice, he pretended to have slept well and to not care about missing the podium. He goofed around with the others, smiled for pictures and laughed way too much. The one he didn’t talk to, however, was Yuzuru. He couldn’t bring himself to look at him, let alone pretend that they were fine.

              And the other didn’t come to him either, not during the gala, or during the final banquet. He flew out of Finland in the early morning not having spoken to his partner who was still there with Brian, heartbroken and having made a decision. He would take this kind of treatment no more. This had to end. He just had to find the right time to do so.

 

 

              The TV was blaring in Javier’s apartment and the blinding light it was shedding lit up the form of Effie on his couch. The program it was playing was a replay of the gala following the 2014 Grand Prix Final. It was his guilty pleasure to go back to this footage, seeing Yuzuru’s bright face as he introduced him in what was supposed to be Spanish to the Catalan crowd. He loved to notice the first signs of their feelings, the gazes that lingered for two long, the smiles they only had for the other, the fond intonations in their voices. The touching was also so obvious he couldn’t possibly wonder how people had first thought about them being together. Whatever the frame, Javier had a hand on Yuzuru’s neck, on his hip, between his shoulder blades…

              Watching the old footage always made him feel a soft nostalgia of a time that was so much easier. In 2014, when they had yet to discuss their feelings, their love had been easy and transparent, expressed in soft reassurances and praises to the world. A love to bloom and yet stronger than ever, the paradox of their relationship. It was during that phase of uncertainty that Javier had been most sure about his feelings and he had doubted Yuzuru’s the least during the first six months. He didn’t understand what had happened for such a promising bond to have gone so wrong so fast.

              It wasn’t that they were in a rotten relationship, hating each other a little after their second anniversary. Javier could honestly he was still in love with Yuzuru. It still took his breath away to see the lanky body abandoning itself to the music of his blades on the ice. He still felt the butterflies in his stomach when he got that special smile from his lover after making a terrible joke, and there were so many instances of him wanting to claim the younger man in front of the world just because he couldn’t believe his luck. Javier was in love with Yuzuru like a madman. A folly that was slowly leading him to his downfall, he could see the path stretching in front of him.

              Yuzuru was bright and swift, soft and yet so strong and so determined. He had a will of iron and the ambition to match. Yuzuru wanted a legacy, wanted fame and recognition for the talent he had been gifted with and for all the hard work he provided. He dreamt of being the best to have ever been and did not pause on his route there, no matter what it took. He would spend countless hours hurting himself on the ice and then torturing his mind in his room just to get closer to that image of perfection he wanted to create. In his dream, there was no room for a partner, and only the deep connection he had with Javier had made him open up to someone. He cared about the Spaniard, they both knew it, but they also knew that it wasn’t enough for Javier.

              Javier was more relaxed in his work. He loved the freedom he felt on the ice, the rush of adrenaline he got standing alone in front of a crowd knowing he had the power to blow their minds. He loved hearing them chanting his name. However, this was not what he aspired for. Figure skating was his job and he loved every minute of it, but, to him, there was more to life than the scratch of steel on frozen water. There was love, and companionship in every way. There was care and fun. Javier loved to be surrounded by those he loved, in Spain and in Canada. He had more than enough friends and he cherished every minute spent with them. As stupid as it may sound, Javier’s goal was to be happy and he knew how to achieve that. He needed people around him, needed a job that let him express everything he couldn’t quite say, but above all, he needed to be valued and loved.

              Their relationship was then the perfect trap for both of them. They loved the other fiercely, they cared about him without condition. What should have been the basis of a strong bond made them both more vulnerable, more insecure. They did care about the other but not in the way they wanted to be cared for. Yuzuru wanted to be pushed and challenged, wanted someone to fuel his burning ambition while letting him be independent. Javier wanted someone to make him feel secure and safe, a relationship built on trust, love and support. Their status as competitors further complicated the situation. They wanted to move together but in different directions, and, on their way, they kept hurting the other, Javier could see it, he felt it.

              It had taken him months, after Osaka, to realize that, maybe, he was not as irrelevant as he thought he was, if only he didn’t compare himself to Yuzuru. That, blinded by his love and admiration for his partner, he had forgotten his own worth. And knowing that Yuzuru would not stop on his way to greatness to help him recover his self-esteem, he had come to understand the only solution for them not to destroy the other. It hurt, to love someone so much and to know that for the both of you, the best would be to let go. It had kept him awake at night feeling like he hadn’t tried enough, hadn’t made enough compromises. In the end, those doubts had further confirmed his gut feeling. He had to go.

              Effie meowed and tore him away from his thoughts. His eyes left the screen and the images of a past he no longer recognized as his own. Taking his head in his hands, Javier sighed. Tonight was the night he would put an end to their sufferings. It would be incredibly hard, to part ways with the man he loved and still see him every day, but he was caging him and each day of captivity made him feel worse.  Tonight they would go on their way to happiness and greatness while not dragging someone forcefully behind.

              And, of course, Yuzuru seemed to have decided not to come home. It was almost nine o’clock and Javier had had time to cook dinner for both of them and put it away. He had set up the table and watched a good chunk of the gala. Sighing, he got up and went to wash some dishes, cursing the day they had decided to adopt different training schedules to better prepare for the Olympics. While Javier had trained on ice in the early morning (he hated early practices) and had gone to the studio to dance and do some more off-ice training in the late afternoon, Yuzuru had started the day by studying for his university classes before going to the studio over lunch break and had started on the ice mid-afternoon for three hours at the club. He should have been back about two hours ago as he had done for the past six months, competition weeks excluded. He hadn’t called to warn either.

              He was elbow-deep in water when the door opened, startling him out of his thoughts. From the corner of his eyes he could see a silhouette clad in black taking off its coat and shoes before tiptoeing towards the kitchen. Two arms snaked around his waist and Yuzuru let his head rest against Javier’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” he said in a soft, tired voice. “Brian and I talked about quad Lutz to say if I want it in Olympic program and it takes long time but needs to done because we only have month before the games.”

              His soft lips planted a sweet kiss on Javier’s cheek and the Spaniard felt like melting. Instinctively, he leaned in the embrace and had to prevent himself from kissing the light out of his partner. It would not be fair to do so just before breaking up.

“You mad?” asked Yuzuru. “I’m sorry, I know it is my turn to cook and I very late and I see you cooked. I make up with mousse tomorrow?”

Javier snorted. Mad was not exactly what he felt. Mad was when Effie peed on his training outfit. Mad was when Brian passed his nerves on him because everyone else was making his job harder for him. Mad was when he couldn’t see Yuzuru for weeks because his country requested he come back for any kind of event. What he truly felt, deep inside was heartbreak.

              Then, he bit his tongue. He had planned a speech, had been working on it for months and been postponing it forever. All these lonely nights he had spent working on the best way to end a loving but unhealthy relationship, and yet he couldn’t produce a sound right now, let alone form a coherent point about the state of their relationship. Breathing deeply, he started the worst way possible.

“ _Cariño_ , we need to talk.”

              Yuzuru let out a shaky laugh, kissing his shoulder, clearly confused and not helped by the fact that he couldn’t see Javier’s face properly, couldn’t try to figure out what all of this was about. He took a step back and leaned against the counter to try and decipher his lover’s expression only to find him biting his lip and staring at his soap-covered hands.

              He had once dreamt of this situation, standing in his apartment with his friend and training mate kissing him good evening, holding him tight like he truly mattered. He had dreamt of living of his passion, of skating his heart out all day long. And somehow, this ideal had been twisted in the cruelest joke. He had everything but the full affection and attention of the man he loved and their lives were so intertwined that every breath he took reminded him of this.

“Javi?” The younger one’s voice was low and worried, his hands were shaking him.

              He could do this. He had to, for both of them. They could not keep living a lie without any meaning. Their eyes locked for a moment and the Spaniard thought he had read worry and love in the dark eyes of his lover before he caught himself. He would not back down.

“Mind if we go sit in the living-room? We need to talk and it might take a while.” His voice wavered slightly but he knew it wouldn’t matter.

“What is it? You scare me.” was the only answer he got.

              He sighed and took Yuzuru’s wrist between his fingers, trying not to think about how the contact still seemed to create a spark between them more than two years after their first kiss. They both went next room where Javier pushed his partner to sit on the couch while he took a chair, trying to not pay any attention to the confused face before him.

“Cariño… I think we should break up. I know it’s very sudden and quite brutal but I need us to return to being strangers.”

              Yuzuru looked at him, trying to make sense of his words, his little face scrunched up as it had often been when he’d first come to train with them in Toronto, when his English was still terrible and he had struggled to understand the most basic sentence on the first go. Staring at Yuzuru’s face, some two years later, seeing his unreadable face, he felt once again the voices in his head become wild. He heard them calling him names, stating all the things that made his partner too good for him. They reminded him why he was doing that.

Javier’s mind was screaming, begging Yuzuru to start expressing his feeling, to show any kind of emotion, any sign that would contradict his own fears that the guy didn’t love him, supplicating him to show that he cared, that he wanted him to stay. That they would work this out. It wouldn’t take too many negotiations for Javier to back down, to run to him to hold him in his arms. He was already aching for the touch of his lover, for his reassurance.

“Why?” asked the Japanese, his voice strangely stable and emotionless. “I do something wrong?”

              _Yes!_ Supplied Javier’s mind, _ask me why, tell me out of doing this, change my mind._ He did not say any of that, instead, he tried to gather his feelings in a couple sentences that would make sense for the both of them in the context of their relationship, something that would explain all his pent up sadness, all the insecurities he’d been nursing through their relationship.

“You didn’t do anything wrong per see,” he started. He hated the English language; he wished he could have spoken Japanese so he would be so much easier to understand for his lover. “but this,” he pointed between the two of them, “is not working out. You and I… We are not exactly working in the same direction. You are training so hard and I know that you are aiming for history but me… You know what I want… I just want you and me, growing old together, having a quiet, lovely life filled with love and lazy mornings. And I can’t have that with you. That’s just not who you are, you are a fighter and I am nothing but a distraction.” He saw Yuzuru opening his mouth but he shut him up with a hand, not ready to stop talking. “I am a hobby to you, the brilliant Yuzuru Hanyu, your sweet, funny, lame sidekick, I am irrelevant for you, I bring you nothing and you… I don’t blame you, you probably tried, but you do not love me the way I need to be loved. You are my everything but I am never yours. And I don’t think I can keep hurting that way.”

              Had Javier raised his head to look at his partner, he would have found him shedding silent tears, trying to stay quiet, understanding that, maybe, they were not meant to be, that he couldn’t be good enough for Javi and that letting go would probably allow both of them to thrive towards their goals and achieve them. He would have seen Yuzuru’s heart break right in front of his eyes. But he was busy wiping his tears, debating whether to say the rest of his planned speech. After long minutes of silence, he did.

“I have always respected and admired you know. You were always so elegant, so mesmerizing, and so radiant. Once you stepped in a room, nobody could tear their eyes away from you. And still today, after all these years, once you arrive, nobody exists anymore. We are all just a crowd of admirers, no matter how good on the ice we are. You made us look like fools like juniors. And we all accepted it, because who are we to challenge Yuzuru Hanyu, Olympic gold medalist, two times world champion, four, sorry, five times winner of the Grand Prix final and greatest skater of all times?

But you know what, Yuzu? We were wrong all of us. The media, the audience, the other skaters. You are not a god. You may outshine us; you may be so bright you blind most of us, but you are not the only skater to watch. We may not all be as good as you are but you are not untouchable and we are not clueless against you. Did you ever think of the destructive way you talked about your good performances? Saying it was never enough and how we all felt hearing that you, who had broken another world record, were disappointed? How stupid we all felt about our 90 points short programs?

I am done feeling inferior to you, Yuzu. Did you ever realize how much you limited us all? How you limited me? I have always been in your shadow, being nothing but the goofy training partner of Yuzuru Hanyu. You never corrected that. But now I am done existing by you. I used to be a respected skater, a talented one, but with you, I forgot who I was… I would like to say that I don’t blame you because you never asked for it but I do and I am sorry. I need time away for you because you only bring me pain and self-doubt. I need us to become strangers once again so I can prove to myself I can still exist without you.”

              His voice broke and heavy sobs filled the otherwise silent room. Yuzuru still had anything to say but he did not seem in a rush to do so. The silence reminded Javier of all the times Yuzuru had gone away without warning him, all the times he had disappeared for five days only for his lover to learn that the Japanese was currently filming a commercial in Tokyo and would be back two weeks later. And it reminded him of that time he had done the same only to prove to himself that actually, he being here or not had never changed Yuzu’s life.

He had tried, for more than a year. He had tried telling himself that Yuzuru loved him and treated him the way he wanted and deserved to be treated, but he could not forget all the times it hadn’t been the case. He was done being the only one trying; he was done suffering in silence to let his idol of a lover be happy. He had suffered too much, had gone through too much, head bowed, to continue like this. He knew he deserved to be happy and in a healthy relationship. He had to do that, no matter how much it hurt now, it would get better. He could learn to love again, could learn to respect himself again.

So why did he feel like this was a mistake?

              He heard movement but could not raise his head. He didn’t want to show his weakness to the man he loved. It hadn’t been his fault, in the end, if their relationship had not worked out. They had had different expectations for their lives and had chosen the other as a shot in the dark. It hurt, that their love, or at least Javier’s, would not be enough to make them happy and keep them happy together. They just had different ways to love, and while Javier gave his entire heart, Yuzuru had always seemed to keep is in check or even hidden.

              He felt two arms snaking around his shoulder, pressing his face against the crook of Yuzuru’s neck. A hand was rubbing his back and a warm voice was already saying nonsense in his ear in what he was sure, was Japanese, not English. He felt the temptation to close his arms around the other man’s body, to let himself go in this comforting gesture, but he could not be tricked into thinking that this was the gesture of a lover, that was just Yuzuru being his nice self, so he tore away from the embrace.

“No.” He said firmly.

              Finally looking up, he saw the hurt in his friend’s eyes, the feeling of rejection. He could almost hear his brain screaming in incomprehension. When the Japanese man leaned in again, he put a hand on his chest, keeping him away.

“Your head is not clear; you make wrong decision because you are mad and tired. We talk about this tomorrow when you are rested.” Tried to say the younger man, looking a bit lost and worried.

              Javier wanted to laugh like a maniac. Tonight was probably the first night when he was actually second guessing his decision. Yuzuru seemed to be afraid, worried and hurt and all he wanted to do was to take him in his arms and comfort him. Tell him he loved him and kiss him until they were both out of breath and desperate for the other to prove that claim, desperate to let their bodies break that language barrier between them. So he compromised.

“I love you, Yuzu…” He said in a little voice. “And I hate myself for that. We need to stop or we’ll hurt each other… I mean that you will hurt me more and I’m not sure I can take it anymore. So, even if I love you, I want you to take your things and go away. I want to see you only at the rink when we have to. I want you to forget me. Keep on with your life, achieve your dreams and I’ll make do on my own.”

“Javi…” Yuzuru began but the Spaniard needed to hold on that decision.

“No, don’t speak please…” He needed to remind himself of why he was doing that. And to do so, he had a very good weapon in the name of his Osaka trip and the feeling of being lonely and irrelevant and so utterly defeated.

“I have a question for you, Yuzu… I need you to tell me the truth, without lying, without pretending.”

“Tell me.”

“Have you ever felt like there was nothing that mattered more than me? Have you ever felt so in love you didn’t know what to do with yourself? Have you ever thought that, maybe, you could let your ambition down for a moment for me? Because I have felt that way for you ever since we started being great friends. The first time I realized it, it was during the Cup of China, back in 2014. I only had a crush on you at that time, but you were already the most important thing for me. And I was in Toronto, streaming the event and I saw you lying on the ice, not being able to get up. I saw the blood and heard people screaming. You have no idea how scared I was how I wished I were with you to hold you while they took care of you. I only got the information everyone else had, I had to see you skate though you were obviously not feeling well, not knowing if you would be okay in the end.

And then we were together and you told me you loved me and my heart leapt. You could have asked me anything, still could, and I would have done it. I would have given up skating for you, had you asked for it. But would you? I wouldn’t ask you because I want you to be happy, but I also know that you would choose skating and your legacy over me and it hurts. Because do you truly love someone if you cannot see they want more?

You have never given me the kind of love I craved, and I tried to accept it, try to go on with what I had and to hell if I felt worse and worse every day, if I felt like I was not worth anything to you. But I cannot do it anymore and I need to move on. Still, I want you with all I have, I want your love. But do you feel the same? Could you put your ambition on hold for us? Not give up your dreams, just work with me on making us both happy? Could you give your everything for us, if only to make sure we can keep going?”

              He saw Yuzuru’s face freeze in an expression of deep sorrow. Tears were freely escaping his beautiful dark eyes and the answer was made obvious.

“Javi…” Yuzuru’s voice was thick with despair. “You know I love you…”

“Tell me.”

              Only the silence could be heard and Javier felt his heart shatter in his chest. There was nothing more to say, no escape, no solution. They had different goals, different aspirations, and it didn’t matter if they loved each other, that would not be enough. And it hurt so much to know that they would have to part ways and deal with their pain on their own, that no one around them would know or understand, except for Yuzuru’s mother who had always known since her son had basically moved out and lived at his lover’s place half of the time.

“No,” whispered Yuzuru. “I cannot promise that. I wish I could.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore then, does it?”

“I am sorry Javi. I do love you.”

“Please stop saying that, it’s not helping…” sighed Javier, trying to prevent himself to starting to cry again.

“Don’t make me go…” Asked Yuzuru in a low voice. “Please…”

              Javier took a deep breath. He could not surrender, could not put himself second anymore, he had to break the ties now, while he still had the courage to do what was best for them no matter how much it cost him, no matter how much he loved the man facing him.

“You can’t say that Yuzu… We can’t go on, please understand that,” he hated to beg for such a thing. “You have to let me go before we start hating each other...”

“I will not never…”

 “I will if we can’t change what we have. So please, we both know I ask too much out of you…”

              The sobs that came next to him were like as many knives piercing his heart and his eyes started watering again. That was too hard; he could not do it… He was about to say something stupid when Yuzuru started talking again.

“I am sorry, Javi… I don’t want to hurt you… I will do as you want.” Another miserable sob escaped his lips and the Spaniard saw his lover wipe his eyes furiously, trying to be strong. “Can I borrow a suitcase? Mine is at home. I need to take my things…”

              Javier took a deep breath and nodded. The Japanese seemed to have understood his reluctance to help him gather his belongings because he escaped to the bedroom to fetch his suitcase and his clothes. The other one was left in the living room, trying to compose himself again. Rustling could be heard in the bedroom and he could even swear that sobs resonated in the empty space.

              Ironically, he had never believed that Yuzuru loved him more than he did tonight, hearing both of their heart breaking and knowing they couldn’t change anything. They loved each other but in ways that were so different that neither could be happy forever after. He walked to the bedroom, waiting at the doorstep and what he saw made him second guess his decision once again.

              Yuzuru had sat down on the bed, a hand over his mouth to muffle his sobs, the other one grabbing the bed sheets to the point of turning his joints white. His lithe body shook and Javier wished he could cross the room and take the young man in his arms and tell him that this may have been a mistake, that they would try harder, that he could take it. But an invisible force kept him away. He turned away and made tea to keep his hands busy. It didn’t help him that he had bought the leaves to accommodate Yuzuru who absolutely refused to drink coffee and was quite cranky if he didn’t get his black, litchi-flavored tea first thing in the morning.

He was pouring boiling water on the leaves when he heard a voice behind him. “I think I have everything.”

“Want some tea before you have to go?” Offered Javier, not yet ready to see the man he loved cross the doorstep, suitcase in hand.

He only got a worried look and a sharp nod as an answer so he turned again and filled the second mug, hands shaking. He spilled some next to the cup but he finished his task and set the kettle down. He grabbed both mugs and handed one to Yuzuru who took it carefully, set it down and took one single step closer. His red-rimmed eyes shone with a weird light, one that Javier could not read.

              He seemed about to say something but finally decided against it, stepped back, took his cup, avoiding Javier’s eyes. Carefully, he took the strainer out and set it down. He eyed the drink as if it held the answer to all his questions and started sipping it. The heavy, awkward silence that reined over them made Javier want to scream. He was in his kitchen with the man he loved and could not even make conversation because what else was there to be said?

              They stayed like this for a moment, and if, in his precipitation to leave, Yuzuru burnt his tongue, neither made a comment. They drank, not even daring to look at the other. After a few minutes, the Japanese brought his cup to the sink and started washing it, without Javier saying a thing. He wanted to both kiss the man until they would both lose their heads and see him leave. He wanted everything and its contrary because he knew what he wanted to do but also what had to be done.

“I think I must go.” Finally said Yuzuru, staring at the wall behind Javier.

“Maybe you should, yes. The last train back to your place is in half an hour.”

“If I forget something…”

“I’ll bring it to the rink.” finished Javier. “If you know what, text me.”

“Okay. I’ll go now.”

“Okay.”

              Yuzuru left the kitchen and fetched his –Javier’s- suitcase in the living room. He threw a last glance around, sighed, wiped a tear that had escaped his eyes and was approaching the door when Javier felt a sudden urgency in his guts, a need to do one last thing.

“Yuzu!” He exclaimed and his now former lover turned around, raw hopes shining on his face. “Can I?”

“Yes.”

              He closed the distance between them, placed a hand on the nape of the other’s neck and kissed him slowly, lovingly. They both knew, from the taste of it that it would be a farewell kiss, full of hopes, of silent prayers that the other would be happy, that they would both recover. It was an apology for all they could not give the other, for the way they hard hurt him unintentionally and for all their lost dreams. It was a last profession of their love and it left them both breathless and a bit more desperate.

“I am sorry, Javi. I do love you. Goodbye.”

              Javier was only processing what had happened that the door had closed behind the other man, on their relationship. He was left alone in an apartment that had been the décor of most of their relationship, where every object, every piece of furniture had a story of the both of them. And everything that was not there anymore was just another part of that story they had lived for two years and four months.

              But somehow, despite his broken heart and despite everything he felt he would miss, Javier knew he would be alright. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but he would be alright. And so would Yuzuru. They now were both free to thrive toward their dreams, freed of trying while there was no hope. They both had a new life to live. There was no more comparison between them, no more feeling of irrelevance, Javier would live for himself, compare himself to his past self and stop second-guessing himself, he made that vow to himself.


	2. Letting go, an unhelpful guide by Yuzuru Hanyu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that the door has closed on their story, Yuzuru is left wondering what to expect from his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!  
> As promised, here is part two, from Yuzuru's POV (mainly). This was (again) inspired by the song Almost Lovers by A Fine Frenzy and I highly recommend you listen to it once or twice while reading.  
> I was happy to read the comments for last chapter (well, as I write this I only got two but the story has not even been up for twelve hours soooooo... So thanks to those who commented!  
> After this I have a short OS I wrote while I was in Gangneung, SK which I might post, who knows...  
> Once again, English is not my mother tongue so please forgive me for all the spelling and grammar mistakes you might find.  
> And sorry for the delay, I just moved and have no Internet connection whatsoever. I am at MacDonald's to post this for you guys haha.  
> Enjoy!

The following events had happened in a blur. Yuzuru had found himself standing outside of Javier’s apartment, suitcase in hand and his heart shattered. He had come here tonight with the hopes of catching up with his lover. They didn’t spend nearly enough time together but there was so much that was expected from Yuzuru, how could he divide himself?  He had so many things to do, so little time…

He had come back home somehow, even if he didn’t really remember walking there, too engrossed in his thoughts. He hadn’t seen the break up coming, had thought that whatever distance there had been between them would disappear if they paid more attention to each other, but with the Grand Prix series and the Grand Prix Final, it had been difficult. Now that he had won his fifth consecutive title, he had planned on working on this relationship, even postponing his departure for Japan and the National Championships to see Javier and talk to him about what he could do. Guess that it wasn’t necessary anymore.

He entered his house to find all the lights turned off, his mother expecting him to spend the night at his partner’s place. He padded his way up to his bedroom, trying not to send the suitcase in any piece of furniture on the way. He really didn’t feel like talking to anyone right now, he only felt like sleeping this nightmare out and waking up in a world where he wasn’t hurting Javier and where they would still be together.

Fortunately, he made it to his room with absolutely no noise emission and hid the suitcase in the closet. He didn’t want to see it, didn’t to acknowledge that this could be true. Yes, Yuzuru was made of ambition, of unreachable dreams, of legacy and of determination, but, in that relationship, he had discovered other sides to him, the caring side and the loving side. He had been more than clumsy with the way he had expressed it, he could see it now, but it had been his first time actually trying to make something work and it had not been enough, he had hurt the only person he had ever loved outside of his family, the only one he’d loved that way anyway, and that was messing with his mind.

He collapsed in bed, curled in a ball and tried to sleep as much as possible to avoid thinking about how much he had fucked up. But of course, now that he was finally home, free to sleep, he couldn’t do it anymore, his thoughts always going back to everything that had happened. Should he have fought harder? Should he have asked for more time to think this through and try to change things? Or had he been right to leave because he now knew he was toxic for the person he loved the most?

Sleep escaped his until the early morning, when rays of sun started to filter through the curtains, showering his room with their white, hot, blinding light and hurting his retinas. He groaned and rolled over, his mind foggy with the lack of sleep. He extended his hand to move Javier so he would close the curtains but found nothing but Pooh.

 

There had been many morning like this, lazy ones spent in bed. But one, in particular, had formed one of his fondest memories with Javier. They had met after their respective days, not having seen each other for the past week after Javier had gone to the European Championships 2016 only to come back the day before. They’d both been very glad that they only had an hour of training in common because they had been useless for that hour, trying to catch up, chatting so much that Tracy had ended up dryly remarking that they could wait for a couple hours and grab some coffee later or even just get off the ice (and everybody’s way) to fetch some for the entire team.

They’d just gone back to work, Javier warming up and Yuzuru going back to his much hated stroking exercises. But even then, they’d kept casually smiling or even touching the other, attracting some snarky remarks about their “lover attitude”. That had been the key to pushing the younger one away and his partner had sighed and resigned himself to wait.

In the evening, Javi had come home to the sound of One OK Rock filling his apartment. He’d dropped his keys on the counter, smiling, and had made his way to the kitchen. Yuzuru was standing next to a cutting board, watching a handwritten recipe and mouthing along the instructions. The Spaniard made his way to his lover and wrapped in hands around his narrow waist, dropping a kiss on his neck.

“I thought we had established that you didn’t have to bother cooking for me when I come back?” He said softly.

Yuzu turned around just to kiss his lips softly, closing his arms around his partner’s neck. “I know. I wanted you happy. Mom give me her recipe for curry and I think I can share with you because you like when she cook for us.”

              He went back to carefully meticulously the vegetables, humming along the music and Javier felt a bubble of contentment forming in the pit of his stomach. Contrary to everyone’s belief, and especially his fans’ beliefs, Yuzuru was more than able to cook a meal. Actually, he was much better of a cook than Javi would ever be and they both knew it. Of course, it had started when he had moved to Toronto and people had started making fun of him because his mother had come along, mocking him for not being able to take care of himself. Upset and humiliated by the remarks of some of his training mates, he’d practiced cooking for the entire off-season with as much passion as he practiced jumping. And in September he had invited the entire staff of the Cricket Club for dinner and had showcased his rather impressive cooking skills to everyone with a smug smile. Brian had praised him extensively on the chicken and the side remarks stopped.

              Point was, Javier would not even try to help his lover because that might upset him and, anyway, he couldn’t read Japanese as of yet, tough he started to get better at understanding it. He settled down with a glass of water and watched his partner cut, fry and clean the dishes with a quiet smile.

              He liked his life that way. Them being at home together, just enjoying the fact that they didn’t have to pretend to just be friends. Yuzuru was comfortable enough to wear one of his oversized shirts on top of one of his impossibly tight training pants, not caring if that gave him a look that would everyone else would call “slutty” and that Javier would call stunning.

“Stop stare at me!” Complained the younger one, dropping everything in what looked like a huge cauldron that Javier did not remember owning.

“I’m sorry, just got caught in my little world.”

“This one not enough?” Asked Yuzuru, pouting. “I make really good curry to welcome you home.”

Javi laughed softly. “I know, cariño, I just didn’t want to bother you.”

That got him a playful slap on the arm and a soft embrace. “Baka. You never bother me.”

              The Spaniard closed his arms around his boyfriend, nuzzling the only part of him he could reach while sitting, his belly. That caused the other man to squeal and try to break away. That would usually end up in a tickling fight until the Japanese boy would beg him to stop but tonight, it ended with him sitting on his partner’s lap with a very deterring glare.

“Never?” asked Javier, trying not to giggle.

“Almost never.” Was the only rectification he would get. “The food has to cook. We have an hour. Want to play?”

              In another universe, with someone speaking better English than Yuzuru, that would sound pretty kinky, but Javier knew better. What Yuzuru was offering was some extreme butt-kicking at Mario Kart. If he was lucky. Because sometimes, his lovely, sweet, innocent boyfriend would turn into a psychopathic machine and launch a horror game that would have the average person –Javier included- curled in a corner after five minutes. The Spaniard suspected it may be some ploy to have him curled on his lover’s lap for extended periods of time but he couldn’t prove it yet.

              As he was ready to refuse, he saw his partner throw him a puppy look and before he knew it he had agreed. After an hour of humiliation in the form of him getting consistently twelfth at Mario Kart, whatever the track and whatever the kart he used, the timer set off and they could eat. Conversation was easy between them since they had both learnt to give the other time to find his words in English and always had a handy dictionary on their phones. And dinner, as expected, had been excellent, and after two helpings, Javier had declared capitulation without conditions to his lover’s attempts at fattening him.

              He hadn’t been expecting the chocolate mousse as a desert. The fact that Yuzuru had remembered his side comment during a the Grand Prix Final banquet in Barcelona about it being his favorite way to end a meal almost made him tear up. Yes, he did often feel insecure but these kinds of evenings always made him feel loved, adored even. And the little congratulatory sign in almond paste got him on his feet and kissing his partner in about half a second.

Yuzuru smiled in the kiss and broke away, keeping their foreheads connecting. “Just wanted to say that I’m proud of you, you do a great job at championships. Congratulations on your four titles.”

              Javier cupped his face between his hands and kissed him again, sweet and thankful. The love in his chest felt like it could make him burst at the seams at any moment. When he’d first realized he was in love with Yuzuru, just after the disaster of his free skate at Skate Canada International in 2015, holding him close, hating the feeling of helplessness in his chest, he had thought that he couldn’t feel any stronger towards the younger man. He’d been wrong. Four months later, standing in his kitchen and kissing him, he knew that he kept falling deeper and deeper.

“You didn’t have to do this but it means a hell of a lot for me.” He whispered, softly rubbing the other’s back. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” Replied Yuzuru, guiding him back to his chair. “So let’s eat our deserts before they get hot and not good.”

“Are they going to be good?” Teased Javier.

He received a very cocky side smile and felt terrified for a split minute. This expression was never a good one on his lover’s face. “Well, your mom give me recipe when I call for birthday. So you must like it.”

              That left Javier speechless, again. His mom made the best mousse ever and always treated him with it when he came back home with a new medal. He hadn’t been able to stop by Spain on his way back from Bratislava and had also missed his flight back home for Christmas. So this small, loving gesture meant the world to him and he struggled to find the words to express his gratitude. His silence, however, ended up being misinterpreted. 

“I’m sorry this is not good, we can do something else, I just think you like it and…” Started Yuzuru, a bit panicked. “We can have ice cream.”

“No.” Javier stopped his lover before he could start properly freaking out. “I love it. I’m just a bit emotional because you’ve done all of that for me and you didn’t have to. I’m really, really happy and I love you.”

Yuzuru offered him a shy smile and kissed him one last time before going to sit. “I am glad. I want you to be happy.”

              The mousse was, unsurprisingly, pretty good and Javier made sure to express that fact by complimenting the cook over and over and asking if there was more of it than just his tiny little glass, to which Yuzuru, the most amazing boyfriend ever, responded by bringing an entire mixing bowl of the stuff with a huge smile on his face.

              They ended up on the couch after the mousse, full and content. They turned on the TV to some mindless show and cuddled up. They had their traditions, when one of them came back, to spend a quiet evening together, keeping the other awake until it was the right time to go to sleep, helping with the jet lag. Yuzuru had his back to Javier’s front and was playing with his fingers. The attention lulled the Spaniard to sleep before he could even try to fight it.

              The fingers caressing his face woke him up and he opened his eyes only to find his boyfriend sitting on the edge of the sofa, a soft, fond smile adorning his tired face. He nuzzled his face in his lover’s hand, sighing in contentment.

“What time is it?” He whispered voice hoarse.

“Midnight. We need to go to bed; you have training in the morning.”

              Javier groaned and rolled on his stomach to hide his face in the cushions. He hated morning training, even when it was arranged to help him with his jet lag. Especially since that it usually meant that he had to get out of bed at the ungodly hour of five in the morning while Yuzuru was still sprawled out in bed, adorable and warm. At least, when the Japanese had morning training, they would have breakfast together before Javier went back to bed.

              A hand ran on his back, making him shiver. He sighed softly and his sigh turned into a gasp when he felt lips on the back of his neck, a warm breath tickling his skin and making his stomach turn. Nothing more would happen, of course, he had to be up in a couple hours, but he loved the feeling and would do everything to keep it going. And it did, when the lips moved up to below his ear and he turned his head. They moved on his jaw, his cheek and then the corner of his mouth before leaving entirely.

“Get up, you are tired tomorrow.”

              Javier tore himself from the couch and took the hand that was offered to him. He let himself be guided to the bedroom. He smiled upon seeing Pooh-san on top of the covers, sign that Yuzuru had probably slept here while he was away. They both changed in their underwear before rapidly hoping in bed.

              In a matter of second, Javier was laying on his side, an arm thrown around Yuzuru’s waist and his warm breath crashing against his exposed back. A leg was pressed against his and he smiled again. He loved this, having Yuzuru curled against him, knowing that they would wake up in the morning together. His life was maybe weird but there were a few things he was not ready to let go and this was one of these things.

              They woke up to the insufferable sound of Javier’s phone buzzing on the nightstand. They groaned in unison and Yuzuru grabbed the device to give it to its owner.

“Answer or I break.” He muttered in broken, raspy English.

The Spaniard rubbed a tired hand on his eyes and picked up with a long groan. “Yes?”

“Javier? Where, the ever loving fuck, are you?” Asked David, his voice laced with annoyance. “Brian and I have been waiting for you for the past hour and you didn’t pick up your phone?”

              _Mierda_. Morning training. And if the light filtering by the curtains was any indication, it was way past eight. He tried to clear his thoughts but Yuzuru’s hand caressing his thigh wasn't really helping him. He diverted his eyes to his training outfit lying on the chair by the bathroom door and sighed.

“Sorry… I didn’t hear it. Jet lag.”

              This was as good a sentence as he could produce right now, having slept for more than eight hours and with his boyfriend kissing a line up his neck to his jaw, clearly wanting some attention. And Javier would love to give it to him but now was not the time so he pushed on his torso to keep him away with a regretful smile. He only got a groan in response and the other man turned away, burying his head in the pillow.

“Javier, are you listening to me?”

“Sorry, got distracted.”

 “I don’t care what is the actual name of the girl you just called jet lag but could you get your lazy ass out of bed and come here?”

              The Spaniard felt the need to correct his choreographer, to tell him that the girl he had spoken about was in fact a boy, and not just any boy but his training mate. He felt this more and more often. The need to tell Brian, Tracy or David about what was going on between their top skaters. But with Yuzuru’s policy of secrecy, he was unable to do so.

“Even if I did get up now, I doubt I could arrive before eleven.” He replied, his eyes wandering over Yuzuru’s form. “Time for me to warm up and it’s gonna be lunch break. Mind if I come at one PM?”

              His hand started caressing his boyfriend’s bare back before he could stop himself. He was a very tactile person and expenses of smooth, silky bare skin were a harsh temptation on him. Especially when they belonged to a certain Japanese figure skater who always _purred_ shamelessly when his back was being rubbed. Javier thanked the god for the pillow his boyfriend had buried his face in because it muffled the soft sounds that escaped his lips.

“Yuzuru is training at that time.”

“Is it a problem?”

“I thought you asked not to train together anymore?”

“It was more convenient for us, yes, but it is not a problem. I can ask him if he minds if you want. Must be awake by now.”

              It was always pretty weird to have this kind of conversations with people. Acting as if the guy wasn’t in the same room, a hand on his knee. The Spaniard lied back in bed and curled closer to his boyfriend, phone still against his ear. There was no way he was leaving that bed without him this morning. He heard David talk quietly to someone.

“Brian says he’s fine if Yuzuru is and if you both promise to behave better than yesterday. Apparently Tracy has been complaining all evening yesterday.”

“I’ll call Yuzu to see if he’s okay with me training with him.” Said Javier, his eyes staring at his lover’s sweet face that had emerged from the pillow.

“Don’t bother, Brian has to call him anyway, we’ll text you the verdict. You should get up anyway, it’s time.”

              Javier groaned in the phone before hanging up and throwing the phone away. He started kissing Yuzuru’s arm up to his shoulder and could feel the other’s breath quickening. It felt good to wake up together and to spend time just enjoying the other’s embrace. But of course, Javier had very quickly forgotten that call from Brian that his boyfriend was supposed to receive and when the other’s phone started ringing, they both jumped.

“Yes?” Whispered the Japanese boy, still groggy.

“Yuzuru?”

The boy sat down immediately, more awake and apparently already ready to face the day. There was a thing to be said about their coach’s powers over him, about how energetic just thinking about skating made Yuzuru feel.

“Am late?” He asked, panicked, checking the time. “I think I have training this afternoon, not now…”

Before he could move, Javier pinned him to the bed with a playful smile and the other glanced at him worriedly. He tried to free himself while paying attention to what was said to him but failed at both so he stopped fighting.

“Sorry, I don’t understand,” he said, praying that Brian hadn’t heard the weird noise he’d made when Javi had straddled him to keep him in bed. He put their coach on speaker as he often did when talking with him on the phone. That way, people around him (especially Javier) could help him answer to some of the more complicated questions he received.

“I was saying that Javi has called to know if he could train with you this afternoon. The lazy boy has had a busy night and didn’t wake up on time for this morning.”

Yuzuru chuckled and threw an amused glance at his partner who looked slightly embarrassed. “A busy night?” He pretended not to understand. “But he come back yesterday. He tell me he has no meeting.”

The Spaniard glared at him. “I wasn’t speaking about that.” Brian sighed, a bit embarrassed as well. “I mean with someone.”

The Japanese man was having way too much fun, biting his cheek to prevent the giggles from escaping. “You mean a girl? I tell Javi he should not do that when he has training in morning, okay?”

“Are you sure you want to talk about that with him?” Asked Brian, sounding surprised and incredulous.

“Better me. I don’t want him to bother me when I training. He has to get up and train early when I skate the afternoon.”

Brian burst out laughing. “Tracy has told me you were the one instigating the talks yesterday; do not pretend he is the bother.” Javier stuck out his tongue and his lover just tickled his side, making him move.

“Okay. I talk too.” He admitted, shrugging. “I ask mom to pick him up and we come at one PM. I call him to tell him.”

 “Thanks Yuzu, see you this afternoon.”

He hung up and Yuzuru turned to Javi, eyebrows raised and an inquisitive expression on his face. “So you miss training this morning? Had funny business yesterday?”

The Spaniard smiled and rolled on top of Yuzuru. “I want to hear the definition of funny business before I can answer.” He growled. The morning was still young; they had about four hours before training, three if Yuzuru’s mom picked them up.

“No, not this morning. Today is important practice. Today I try to practice quad loop. I need all energy I have.”

              The other male sighed and rolled off. No funny business this morning apparently. Well, he could go without it, he was not a teenager. He was a fully functioning adult in a monogamous relationship with the one he loved. He didn’t have many other options than just surrender to reason.

“Okay. Pancakes?” He offered.

              Yuzuru seemed to ponder that for a moment before his face scrunched in concentration. It was a strong look on him and Javier wondered for how long he would get the butterflies in his stomach just looking at his boyfriend. Six months was too much already, he should not feel them anymore, right?

“No.” Concluded the younger one. “Can we just stay here and hug? I missed you.”

              That had the Spaniard melting and he kissed his boyfriend, hot and deep for a few seconds before tearing away and dropping his head on his torso. One of his arms circled Yuzuru’s waist and he closed his eyes. This was his favorite part of their relationship, just cuddling for hours on end, until one of them had to break away because he was too hot. It didn’t matter if they had nothing to talk about, talking was a bother, an effort, and this was simple and warm.

But Yuzuru had something weird to say. “You think you love me even if I don’t skate?” His voice was small and almost scared and it sent all of Javier’s senses on high alert.

He raised his head to look at his lover in the eyes but they were fixed on the ceiling. “Of course you idiot, why?”

“Just to know. I don’t. Love me when I don’t skate.” The words were slow and slurred.

“I love you enough for the both of us so shut up and take advantage of the next two hours because training will be hell this afternoon.” He said this lightly and put his head on the other’s torso rapidly.

              They spent the next two hours lounging in bed, kissing ever so often, fingers dragging on the other’s skin and that looked as cliché as it did in movies and it was rather perfect. It was a quiet, lazy morning bathed in soft sunlight.

 

              Yuzuru tried to chase the memory away. He wasn’t sure he could escape their past but he sure as hell would try. The numbness, the feeling of seeing through someone else’s eyes was slowly fading away and something was uncurling in him; a hidden anger that had waited its time to bloom. Maybe it was irrational, maybe it was unhealthy but he resented Javier for not having talked about this with him before, for not trying harder, for not giving them one last chance…

              Trying to reign over his feelings, he got up. He needed to get on a rink now before his emotions exploded inside of him. Grabbing a random pair of pants and a shirt from his wardrobe he went to the bathroom and took a quick shower. No more than ten minutes later he came barreling down the stairs of his apartment, not having woken up his mother and pretty proud about it.

              It was not even eight when he reached the rink but the gates were already opened and some of the youngest skaters of the club had started training more than two hours ago. He passed them without even saying hi to the one he knew. He didn’t care about them; he cared about getting on the ice and getting rid of all feelings. On auto-pilot he got changed and tied his skates. Guards on, he all but ran to the door in the boards. And finally stepped on the ice.

              He knew it was stupid. He hadn’t warmed up, hadn’t done any kind of stretching, but he was skating. He was grounded by the feeling of his blades on the ice; he found peace in stroking it, found relaxation in the sounds that he produced with it. He closed his eyes and sighed. He needed that, needed something to keep his mind busy and he already felt like he was calming down. Still, he skated a couple laps before slowing down. He needed to warm up before he could do anything, two months before the Olympics was no time to be an idiot and injure himself. Yet he could use a couple triple Axels to feel better, no matter how weird it may sound. So he started stretching and felt like he was doing a pretty good job when he saw a pair of feet stop next to him. And he knew who they belonged to.

              Looking up, he met Brian’s soft blue eyes. The man was smiling at him, clearly surprised but not hostile. Yuzuru sighed and straightened up. He would need to be convincing so his coach wouldn’t say anything about him being here while his training wasn’t supposed to start before one in the afternoon.

“Good morning Yuzu,” Brian greeted him. “You do know your session is this afternoon, right?”

“Yes.”

              Brian raised his eyebrows, looking more and more confused. He tried to pat his pupil’s arm but the boy dodged it and kept warming his shoulders up. Yuzuru knew Brian was scanning his face and probably saw what he saw in the mirror this morning, the rather large bags under his eyes, the way he held himself, tense like a bowstring and also his lips that he had bitten bloody during the night. But if he saw it, his coach didn’t comment.

“Is there anything you would like to talk about?”

“Not really,” said the Japanese man, shrugging. “I just need to skate. Please?”

              They made eye contact and he saw pity in his mentor’s eyes, something he never wanted to see and never wants to see again, but he couldn’t tell him to fuck off. That would have been rude and uncalled for and he might have been sad and angry but he was not a monster wanting to make the world as miserable as he was. Instead, he just set his eyes on Gaby’s form as she performed a pretty good triple flip. Maybe the arms could have been a bit tighter in the air but overall that was pretty cool.

“Yuzu…” Brian seemed torn between letting him do what he needed and being smart. “I will not bother you if you promise me not to try anything stupid. Like a quad. I don’t think that would be a good idea for you to do any today. Especially if you intend on staying here until the end of your actual practice session, okay?"

              He would have liked to argue. He wanted to do quads, wanted to practice them until his body was sore. He still had issues with his Quad Salchow – Triple Toe combination at times, an issue that had been following him for a year now, and with the Olympics coming in February, he needed to settle that once and for all. And he should probably run through his program again because the Nationals were two weeks later and he wanted Shoma to give him his title back but he felt like he was going to have to fight hard for it. But at least he got to skate at all and that diverted him from thinking about Javier.

“By the way, we would all appreciate it if you could avoid going to talk to Javi. He needs to train as well; you know how much he wants that Olympic medal. Or at least a world medal. Anything really, to give him back his motivation, last year was hard on him and you know…”

“Not an issue,” cut Yuzuru, jaw set hard.

“Sure? Because else…”

“Sure. Can I go now?”

              Yuzuru felt Brian’s eyes on his back as he took off not waiting for an actual answer. He didn’t want to explain why Javier was the last (or the first?) of his problems today. Brian hadn’t known about their relationship though he had sometimes dropped hint about them being more than friends. And he could hardly see himself explaining to his coach how much he had fucked up.

              It took him an extra ten minutes to warm most of his muscles. The rest would come with his first exercises. And since he wasn’t allowed to jump anything harder than a Triple Axel, he might as well practice his spins and step sequences because they had been less than stellar at the Grand Prix Final. Fortunately he had been competing at home in Japan and the crowd had cheered for him louder than for any other, giving him energy. Well, than any other except Shoma. But the boy had tripped on the landing of his Quad Loop and had under-rotated his quad flip before popping an Axel, giving Yuzuru an easy victory. Even with a popped Quad Salchow.

              Feeling ready, he started gaining speed, racing through the rink, his mind set on not thinking about Javier. He was an Olympic champion, a World Champion and a Grand Prix Final Champion, nothing, not even a broken heart would stop him from skating, and nothing would distract him.

              And yet, as he went from the back counter turn to the take off of his triple Axel, he knew something was wrong. His body was tilted forward, but even before he could realize it, he was barreling down the ice and the air was expelled from his lungs. He ignored the pain in his side and got up again. One failure would not stop him, even on as Triple Axel. Especially not on a Triple Axel.

              The next one didn’t send him against the ice but he did have to put a hand down. Cursing under his breath, he gathered speed again. The third one he ended up on his butt. The fourth he hit the boards with his left skate. He was getting up for another one when a hand settled on his shoulder and he turned to see Brian, a very concerned look on his face. A look that sent him a couple of years back.

 

 

              April 2016, after the World Championships. Yuzuru had retreated to Japan to get his left foot surgery and was supposed to stay there for more than a month. This was worrying, not only because he would get surgery, but because, even if it succeeded, the doctors couldn’t promise him that he would ever skate again. And what was Yuzuru Hanyu without his skates? What eternal trace, what legacy would he leave behind himself at the grand old age of 22?

              He had shared his fears with both Brian and Javier and while the former had tried to reassure him on the phone and had wished him well, Javier had booked a flight for Japan at the earliest date to spend two weeks with him in Sendai. Sometimes, Yuzuru wondered what he had done to get an angel thrown his way.

              The surgery was scheduled the day after the World Champion’s arrival which was nice because Yuzuru’s mother couldn’t be with him all the time but Javier had no other plans and no other obligations than being the best boyfriend on earth. They spent the evening before eating pizza, slouched in the lounge’s sofa, giggling about stupid stories of their junior days. They both felt relatively relaxed and Yuzuru’s heart had never been more filled with love than in this instance.

              When came morning, they’d gone to the hospital together. Of course, Yuzuru had booked the room under an alias, the staff had been sworn to secrecy and at first sight of the media they were to evacuate him. He did not need the extra pressure on his injury, or on why Javier Fernandez, which he still called only his training mate, would spend the night in his room.

              A few hours later, still under the influence of morphine and with a bandaged foot, he was brought to his room where Javier was already waiting, impatiently tapping on the bedside drawer. It was a short operation, he knew it, but he also knew what it could mean to Yuzuru. And he remembered that conversation from months ago, while they were both lying in bed and Yuzuru’s weird question. “Will you still love me if I don’t skate? Cause I won’t.” He really didn’t want to try it out, having his lover unable to even set a foot on the ice. But for now, he seemed fine enough.

 

              Yuzuru was sleeping soundly until suddenly he wasn’t. He felt his whole body shaking and opened his eyes to see everything around him was also moving. The movement was so violent, so rapid that he almost felt like throwing up but he couldn’t even move, his body was paralyzed by everything around him. Everything felt like it would fall on him, the noise was insufferable so he started screaming for help, screaming to avoid letting the fear blooming inside his chest take over. He fought to get up but he couldn’t, his entire body seemed stuck to the thing he was lying on.

              He didn’t know where he was, he didn’t know if there was anyone around, but the earth was shaking and he needed everyone to go out of here, to get safe. And if possible he’d like to be taken with them. So he screamed more and more until a blinding light attacked his eyes and his voice turned raw with the strain it was under.

              He tried to get up again because the earth seemed to shake more at every moment and he had to get out. He remembered running out of the rink, so many years ago, his skates still on, remembered the loss and that’s when panic truly got to him. He couldn’t breathe properly. So he started clawing around him, trying to escape everything, his mind going blank with all the panic he was feeling.

              He needed out, he couldn’t die here, not like this. He had survived one earthquake; he could do the same with this one. But his body still wasn’t responding and he felt sharp pains around his wrists and on his shoulders. He tried kicking but his limbs were numb. His voice had died and so would he.

              He heard faint noise through his haze of panic, a voice calling his name. He tried to scream to the person to flee because there was no way he could escape this place with his skates on and he couldn’t find his guards. He tried to tell them to find his parents. The house down the street. But his sobs got in the way and he choked on them.

              Until suddenly the white blur was not white anymore but pale beige, and a soft, familiar face was hovering over his, eyes veiled with concern. For one split second, he felt relief. If Javier was here, that meant he would be safe right? But then his mind reminded him that they were going through a earthquake and that the building could collapse at anytime. He tried to find the English words to tell his boyfriend to leave him here, to run, but the idiot stayed here, talking.

              The words came to him in an incomprehensible mass of English and the fear clouding his mind wouldn’t let anything sink in. He tried to make Javier go away, try to shout in Japanese but the air supply was too reduced for him to produce more than a whisper before almost choking. And the Spaniard didn’t seem to understand a single thing because he was getting closer, showing him his hand as if he were a cornered animal ready to attack. And his brain couldn’t process what was happening, everything was too bright and the adrenaline kept pulsing in his veins.

              And the hands he could see the whole time reached his cheeks and started stroking there and Yuzuru trashed, signaling to his lover that he should get out, they were in danger, there was no time for gentle goodbyes. Tears kept pouring over his face and they were the only things he could feel other than his burning lungs.

              And when he looked more, he saw that everything had stopped shaking. Good, the building would hold on at least until the second or third wave, he had time to tell Javier to get away and maybe to escape as well. They could do it, if they left now.

              But as just the earth had stopped shaking, his brain was slowly rebooting and he assessed his situation. The oxygen supply seemed to be increasing with his lowering level of panic but there was a weird, pulsating pain somewhere in his lower body. His throat hurt too much to produce any sound and his eyes had still not adapted to the light. However, sounds were coming to him more clearly now.

“What the fuck happened?” He heard and read on Javier’s lips.

              He tried to reply that there had been an earthquake and that they should go somewhere safe when another voice rose from afar. He couldn’t quite place what was being said but he didn’t care right now.

“And you didn’t think about checking if he was asthmatic? I could have told you. Hell, the first idiot on the street would know that!” Javier was yelling and Yuzuru found the strength, deep inside him, to lift a hand and close it around his boyfriend’s wrist.

              The Spaniard turned around and gave him a sweet, concerned smile that would have his insides melting about half of the time but flirting was not on the agenda, they had to get out. He tugged on the other’s sleeve and showed the door with his chin.

“Everything is fine cariño, you are safe now. According to the nurse, as your panic attack recedes, you should be able to speak. It’s gonna hurt because you irritated your throat quite badly but you’ll be able to speak in a couple minutes.”

              Yuzuru nodded from left to right and showed the door again, tugging at his lover’s sleeve. They needed out now, why was he so calm. He then showed both of them and the door again. Earthquakes never came in one wave, they should keep happening and the second could be just as dangerous as the first.

“You want us to go out? You can’t, querido, you can’t use your foot right now, remember the surgery?”

Yuzuru wanted to cry of frustration, and the groan that escaped his lips encouraged him to try and form a word.

“Earthquake. Out.”

Javier looked at him, concerned before caressing his forehead and his cheek. “No, cariño, there was no earthquake. You are just very confused because of the morphine and the fact that it reacted pretty badly with your asthma. But you are safe now, do you understand?”

“Earthquake” he insisted.

“Look at me cariño,” Javier called him. “You are safe now, it is about three in the morning, you had a panic attack but now you have to go back to sleep, do you hear me?”

              Yuzuru refused to believe that he’d just been confused and panicked, he was sure of what he had felt, the earth had shaken and they were losing time. They would die here, just like the thousands of people who had thought they had been safe back then, when he had found himself in a gymnasium with his skates on but not his guards, with his family safe but so many more decimated. He felt his breathing quickening again, felt arms closing around him.

              His vision got blurry again, spots appearing at random places as he remembered. The roof falling on them, the screams, the cries. The pity of the rest of the world but no help, not enough anyway. How they’d all harbored ghost like appearances, haunting the devastated places that used to be their homes. All of it came back to him and he started crying again because it never failed to produce that effect on him.

              But there was a body against his, a respiration against his ear and that somehow managed to ground him. He had something to hold onto and to get his mind away from the spiral it was going down. He hiccupped against the torso on his side, tried to hold his sobs and master his shaking hands but that was too hard. His breathing would not come back to normal.

Words were whispered in his hair, strings of affection. _Cariño. Querido. Yuzu. Mi amor_. And so many others he couldn’t possibly understand. Too many words in a language he had not learnt. They spoke of love, of concern and were ultimately the calming factor he had needed. And so what if the earth had shaken, nobody seemed too eager to get him out of here and he couldn’t do it himself, might as well die here. That would be his legacy as a skater.

              Words evolved in a song, a soft lullaby calmly hummed against him, soothing his last tensions, lulling him to sleep, a slumber he couldn’t seem to escape and that captured him, numbing his sore body and his battered soul. So what if he died. 

              In the morning he woke up with a start, his body screaming in pain as he sat up, mind much clearer than it had been the day before. He was soaked in sweat and the room smelt like someone had puked in it. Javier was sleeping soundly on the hospital bed, and from his position, Yuzuru assumed he had slept against him for a good chunk of the night.

              He pushed on his lover’s arm to wake him up; needing to know what had happened and the other opened a lazy eye before smiling softly to Yuzuru. His hair was messy and his shaky breath didn’t smell like flowers and candy floss but the younger one had never felt happier about having his lover with him.

“Good morning,” greeted Javier lazily, raising a hand to put it on one of Yuzuru’s, caressing it softly. “How do you feel?”

“I… hurt…” croaked the Japanese boy, throat burning and body sore. He let himself fall back against Javier who immediately wrapped his arms around him and started kissing his hair and forehead, a calming and loving presence.

“I know, cariño, the nurses said you would. Do you remember what happened?”

              He scrunched his face, trying to recollect the events. He had a feeling of fear still lodged in his belly and he could almost remember a tune sung in his ear, something warm and sweet relaxing his muscles. But he couldn’t recall where the fear had come from and why his left foot seemed not to hurt while the rest of his body felt like a dead lump.

“No.”

“From what I could gather, you had a nightmare, yesterday. A very bad one about the earthquake. You woke up screaming in Japanese about the earth shaking and everyone getting out and we tried telling you that you were safe but you were starting a panic attack. The morphine didn’t help because it is already counter-indicated to asthmatic people and with the panic attack you couldn’t breathe properly. Still you kept screaming and telling us to get out, from what I understood. It took you a couple minutes to realize the earth was not actually shaking and from there we could calm you back to sleep but you have screamed your voice raw and the tension in your muscles will probably need to be massaged out very quickly.”

              Yuzuru nodded slowly, processing what was being told to him. He could kind of remember it now, the light, the fear coursing through his veins, the pain and the feeling of helplessness. He took one of Javier’s hands in his to play with his fingers. He needed time to relax and divert his mind. He wished he hadn’t displayed his terror of the earthquake so openly, wished he hadn’t caused his partner so much trouble. But there was nothing he could do about that now so he just focused on the breath against his neck and against the solid body against him.

              He turned around with a grimace to face Javier, a fake smile plastered on his face, ready to reassure his boyfriend. But the smile faltered as soon as he looked in the other’s eyes. They were full of concern, a genuine, deep concern that made his throat tighten. He hated to worry the people around him, he was an adult with idiotic fears and he didn’t need anyone to pity him or worry about him. It made him feel guilty so he just looked down, fists clenched.

 

 

 

 

              Being on the receiving end of such a look, but this time by Brian, was not pleasing either. He didn’t need people to look out for him, he didn’t want their help. He dusted his training pants, trying to erase the marks of ice his failures had left on it. His eyes were downcast and his shoulders tense.

“Are you trying to kill yourself?” Asked Brian in a rough, disappointed voice. “Landing on your head or your rib cage will not tick the box for creative landings, you do know that? So what the fuck are you doing?”

Yuzuru bit the inside of his cheek to control the anger that was rolling off him in waves. “I need to make Triple Axel better.”

Brian sighed. “Not today, no. I don’t know what’s happening Yuzu, but you know you can talk to me right?”

Yuzuru glared at him, all poorly controlled rage and hurt pride. “’m fine. Need to practice.” And before his coach could add anything, he has skated to Tracy, who had been talking to Elizabeth.

              He kept practicing with her the rest of the morning, avoiding Brian at all costs and focusing fully on himself so as to not see Javier crashing again and again against the ice and delivering the poorest run-through of his program ever. He blocked Brian’s frustrated comments, letting the petty happiness of not being the target wash over him. Anyway, Javier was not his problem anymore, right?

              And as his left foot stroke the ice, he let everything wash over him. He was Yuzuru Hanyu, World Champion, Olympic Champion, Five times Grand Prix Final Champion. He needed no one, didn’t want anyone. He was untouchable, unbreakable and no one would ever convince him he was not worth a fight. How the hell did Javier even dare doing that to him? He had given what he could give to that relationship and now he was being thrown away for not being considerate enough? What more could he give? And Javier feeling irrelevant? For fuck’s sake, the guy was twice a World Champion, had the most gorgeous quadruple Salchow ever and didn’t need to be mollycoddled, right?

              He let the pain and the anger flood him as he sped around the rink to drop into a spin without really trying to control his movements. He could hear Tracy telling him that he shouldn’t go back to his old habit of skating like a mad man, could hear her remarks about his flailing arms but he needed to get everything out of his system as soon as possible. There were Olympics to come and he needed to be mentally ready and focused.

              After hours of a generally disappointing and painful training, he exited the club. Somehow, during the afternoon, his anger had receded to let his broken heart and his shattered ego take over. And while the fury had been a driving force, the sadness made him want to curl in a corner and cry. It was pitiful but he wanted Javier to wrap his arms around him like he did all the time and to tell him that they were fine. He wanted his boyfriend back, wanted to make up for the hurt he’d apparently inflicted upon him.

              But instead of calling the Spaniard and risk getting ignored, he just grabbed his stuff and walked to the bus station. It felt weird, after an afternoon practice, to take the bus back to his mother’s place. Usually he would take the one to Javier’s and spend the night there. He only ever took the bus to his mom’s in the morning, just to wash some clothes and fill his travel bag to go to his boyfriend’s apartment.

              He opened the door with a key that shouldn’t have been so easy to find, but his other set of keys now rested on top of the bedroom drawer. Javi’s bedroom drawer. The apartment was filled with the sound of the TV, a Japanese cooking program that his mother never missed. He set his suitcase down and took off his shoes, the weird feeling never leaving him. He wanted to go home. His real home, not so far away from here. Was it so much to ask?

              The footsteps warned him of his mother’s arrival and he glanced up, a smile once again stuck on his face. He was good at pretending, at least in front of most people, so he might as well try here. He took her in his arms for a quick hug and he knew he had surprised her. They didn’t hug much. They separated and she had an inquisitive look on her face.

“You came back? Yesterday night as well?”

Damn it .She had heard him. “Yep, I’ll probably sleep here more often in the near future.” His throat felt too tight saying this but at least his eyes weren’t getting moist.

“An issue with Javier?” Asked his mother and he shook his head slightly.

“No, I just need to focus, Olympics and everything, is that okay?”

He could see that he wasn’t fooling her completely, she saw through his lies with too much ease, but she didn’t comment any further and just let him reach the living-room with no more fussing. “Go get changed into something more comfortable, I’ll make you dinner.”

His stomach twisted at the very idea of food. “Don’t worry, I have had dinner at the club, I’ll just take another shower and read a little bit, if that’s fine with you.”

              She nodded, threw him one last vaguely worried look before going back to her show. He breathed deeply, thankful that she was no trying to get the actual truth from him. He had not fully confronted it yet, and he needed time before he could say that out loud. Only thinking about him made him feel disappointed, sad, regretful and shameful. And he wasn’t even sure they were separate feelings anymore, they were just a swirling mass in his chest.

              The shower made his muscles relax and let him assess the damage he’d done to himself. Bruises were blooming at different places on his skin, on his hip, on his bicep, on his thigh. His left ankle felt a bit stiff and his back muscles needed to relax quickly. Sighing, he turned the water hotter to work everything out.

              He exited the bathroom in his sweatpants and threw his clothes on his bed in a rumpled mess. He wanted to find his splint so his ankle would be maintained. He was looking under the bed when a knock resonated against the door. He hurriedly stuffed the mess of clothes and wet towel under his bed and closed the drawer before going to open it. His mom didn’t need to see his mess.

              Except that the door opened on Javier, not his mom. His brain went blank for a good minute, standing at the door, half naked and bruised all over. And then his mind started registering what was happening. His brand new ex-boyfriend was standing at his door at eight PM, tense and uncomfortable.

So obviously he invited him in. “Good evening?” He greeted, standing straight and faking confidence. Javier didn’t need to see his emotional mess.  
“Hi.”

              They were facing each other like two idiots, not really knowing if there was much more to say to the other. Yuzuru caught Javier’s eyes roaming his body, assessing his bruises and the way his left foot never rested too long on the floor. The younger one cleared his throat and starting moving. He retrieved an old shirt in his wardrobe and put it on. He was okay with being half naked in a locker room with a load of random guys but with his ex-boyfriend that sounded like a stupid idea.

“Can I help you?” He asked, planting his feet firmly on the ground.

“I came to talk to you.”

“Talk then.”

              They were both surprised at the hostility in Yuzuru’s voice and the latter controlled his urges to apologize. Because if he let go, he would start full on crying and that wouldn’t be optimal. Javier had made a choice, no matter how unfair it seemed, and he had to stick to it. Well, for the Spaniard’s well being. He could do that, right?

“We need to talk.”

“We don’t. I remember you say we talk no more.” Said Yuzuru, trying to hold himself together when all he wanted was to run towards Javier and hug him. He turned around, pretending to be looking for something so he wouldn’t have to keep his face expressionless for an instant.

“Yuzu…”

“What is it about?”

“I just wanted to talk about what to say to the others. They have noticed already that we haven’t spoken today and they saw the both of us fail miserably at novice level stuff today. Though you failed more dramatically than I did. They are worried about us. Well, you mostly, but us. And we need to determine what they can know.” Explained Javier. Yuzuru could hear in his voice that he hated it, hated to bring that up.

Yuzuru wanted him gone, wanted to finally be able to curl in a ball and let everything sink in, he didn’t want to think about others right now. “I don’t care.” He managed to get out while trying to keep his tears contained.

“We both know you do, car…” His voice died suddenly and the awkward silence that followed keep putting salt on their wounds.

“Is this why?” Asked the Japanese in a small voice, finally facing his former lover. He didn’t care much for the tears streaming down his face.

The Spaniard’s face softened slightly. “I told you why…”

“I’m not sure I understand good because it don’t make sense.” Confessed the other. “I love you and you love me. And I hurt and you hurt and I don’t understand. So if it because I don’t want we tell people, I think we can. Stay.”

              And he hated to feel that pathetic, hated to plead for something that should have never ended. He hated the sobs that threatened to escape him and the sad but determined expression on Javier’s face. He would have liked to be as cool as the older one was, as collected, but he was a crying mess in his bedroom. He wiped the tears furiously, still staring right into the eyes of the man he loved.

Javier took a step forward; Yuzuru one back and ended up with his bed hitting him behind the knees. He fell with a ridiculous squeal and stayed put for half a second, taking in the mortification. He heard footsteps getting closer but as he was he could see the ceiling and not Javier which was a pretty huge advantage. He even tried to pretend that he didn’t feel the bed dipping under the other’s weight.

“Yuzu…”

“I think I don’t want to hear you. I don’t care what you say. Say them I’m bad. I’m bad with you. Don’t care.”

              He didn’t say what he meant, that it didn’t care because it wouldn’t change anything because he loves Javier and that, if he can’t have him, then it doesn’t really matter what other people may think. He would have loved to, but something inside him told him that would have been cruel. He was already acting like a child, making it harder for the both of them; anything more would have just been monstrous. But they both knew that that was what he meant.

              A hand touched his shoulder and he glared at Javier. But it stayed where it was and he hated to admit that it made him feel better. He had loved, truly loved, very little in his short life. Skating had been his passion and reaching the stars his goal. He’d fought his way up the senior Grand Prix Final in 2011 without having had a real conversation with any skater. He hadn’t been here to make friends.

              But Javier he loved deeply. He liked to tell himself that he’d fallen in love when seeing his quad Salchow for the first time, but it was probably more in March 2013 when the man had hugged him to make up for the fact that they had fought over the 3rd place and Yuzuru had lost. The gesture had been lovely and the Japanese boy had felt the butterflies. The figurative ones, those he didn’t want to come near. He had to focus on skating. But as the years passed he’d found himself more and more infatuated with his training partner. His confession had caught Yuzuru by surprise but he’d just laughed it off and had kissed his friend.

              And here they were, sitting on his bed, Javier trying to comfort him for breaking up with him, trying to sort everything out like an actual adult and him kicking the floor and crying like a four year old. Of course he could keep doing that and fly for Japan three days later for the Nationals having solved nothing. Or he could grow up and prove his loss to Javier by being the best ex-partner ever. He liked that so he sat properly.

“I think…” He started, hesitant. “I think we tell them the truth.”

Javier looked at him a bit lost. “Sorry?”

“Not that you and me we…” he choked on the words but kept going. “You tell them I want medals and I want be fame. And you want… Whatever you want. And we focus on that. For now.”

Javier nodded. Presented that way, breaking up with Yuzuru sounded silly, they both knew it. “And after?”

“After they don’t care because we don’t talk to other during very long time so they don’t think we are friends.”

              It was easy, doable. And as much as the Japanese skater hated it, it was probably the best solution for the both of us if they were to go through all of that. And it left an opening if ever they wanted to be friends again, though he knew he wouldn’t be able to try right now. Everything was incredibly fresh and he hadn’t exactly got the time to lick his wounds. Well, at least Javier seemed to be doing just fine. Of course he hated it but he wouldn’t comment on it. The Spaniard had always been much better at pretending than him.

“Finish?” He asked politely. “I am very tired and I want sleep.”

              Javier gave a sharp nod and got up. He was viciously biting his lower lip, something Yuzuru used to hate and that he would stop by kissing him. But kissing him right now was not an option so he just glared at him. The older one just smiled sadly, gave him a pat on the shoulder and exited the room. And if he heard Yuzuru’s first sob through the door, he didn’t come back.

              And so weeks passed without them exchanging a single word. Yuzuru went to Japan for Nationals but failed to get the title from Shoma, only winning a silver medal. He would blame his complicated relationship with his Quadruple Salchow-triple toe combination, not the fact that he had basically bombed the entire free skate. Well, at least he did manage a pretty good job on the short program securing the second place for him.

              The month after he’d spent in Toronto, training harder than ever and trying to flee the media that followed him everywhere. He was the man to beat, the Sochi Olympics Gold medalist, the World Record holder, the World Champion and the five-times Grand Prix Final Champion. He had everything to lose. And there were people chasing him. Not only Shoma and his ridiculously beautiful long program but Nathan and his six quads, Boyang and his improving artistry and Patrick, and… And Javier. Javier who had developed a mind-blowing, delicate long program with David, probably Yuzuru’s dream program. There were so many people who wanted his crown, older ones with more developed skating skills and younger ones with amazing layouts. And he was caught in the middle with only three kinds of quads. And a silver medal at the Japanese Nationals.

              He loved to think he could handle the pressure, that he could do it, but his confidence was cracking a bit more everyday and, by the Olympics, he would be surprised if he had any. Of course, Brian kept telling him that he could do it, after all, he had brilliantly defended his title of Grand Prix Final Champion, but he partly blamed it on Nathan’s sprained right ankle. And now there was the matter of Javier which was stupid and shouldn’t count but he was weak and still in love and very much hurting. Seeing the Spaniard everyday really didn’t help.

              And why the hell had he chosen to skate about letting go in his short program? It had been his very own idea to recommend the song to Jeffrey, a quiet, extremely melancholic piano piece. He had found years ago when looking for an idea for his gala program of 2015, eventually finding Requiem for Heaven and Earth. He had expressed his feelings about it, how it made him feel of the need to learn to let go. To forget the past and move on to be the best version of yourself or something equally stupid. And now he had to skate about abandoning your dreams taking into consideration that he had lost a relationship because of skating. It became a bit too real and too personal for him but what could he do? There were only a couple weeks before the Olympics and he couldn’t exactly design an entire new short program. The most ironic part was that Brian kept complimenting him on the new depth his program had acquired after the GPF.

              At least there was very little time to focus solely on Javier right now, with the preparations for their very big trip to South Korea and for the competition there. That was fortunate because Yuzuru could only think of one time in his life he had been as depressed as he was now and that would be the 2011 disaster. If let alone, he would spend hours on end just replaying their entire relationship to see where he had gone wrong. That’s what he did when he failed a program, and usually it brought him keys to being better. But here there was truly no point except masochism. And realizing he had been a part-time terrible partner.

              A hand settled on his shoulder and he turned around to be faced by the warm and gentle smile of Tracy. If there was one person in this club the Japanese skater loved and respected, that would probably be her. She was such a strong, caring woman that it sometime confused him why she bothered with ungrateful brats like them. She pushed them all to do their best but she also listened to them and treated them as the children they were.

“I think you should go home, Yuzu, it’s past seven, your mom is going to be waiting for you.” She said softly, rubbing his arm.

              He didn’t want to go home. He wanted to keep training. There was much at stake and he didn’t feel ready to beat either Shoma or Nathan. Those were war machines and he was just himself. Still a very good skater but also still very human and pretty inconsistent. However, everyone had left but him, Brian and Tracy and he couldn’t ask them to stay overtime because he didn’t know what to do with himself back at home except spend hours thinking about a lover they had not even heard about. He ended up nodding his consent and left the rink without as much as a glance backward.

              He was not the only skater in the locker room. Jun-Hwan, Javier and Dylan had all apparently been on afternoon training. Not that he would notice, given that he barely spoke to anyone during training anymore. That was fine, he was used to being alone and he didn’t need friends, he needed Javier and a gold Olympic medal. If he couldn’t have the first one he would put a hell of a fight for the second. Hence why he wouldn’t socialize.

              The three of them were making small talk when he got in the room and he flashed an exceptionally forced smile before setting his stuff on the bench and getting changed. He might not like home but he sure liked it more than the locker room. People were too curious here and Javier got almost naked with absolutely no hesitation.

“Yuzu!” Exclaimed Jun-Hwan in English that barely rivaled the one he spoke upon arriving here. “Brian tell you help triple axel with me!”

The Japanese skater tried not to sigh. He really hated the changing room. “I’ll help you tomorrow. Okay?”

The Korean boy’s face lit up and his smile was dazzling. “Morning?”

Yuzuru shook his head. “Lunch break.”

              He grabbed his clothes and his towel before anyone else could talk him into doing useless tutoring and fled to the showers. Afternoon training sessions were long and often difficult and he didn’t really fancy smelling in the metro. Neither did he want to get undressed in front of his ex-boyfriend, that was too awkward.

              He got out of the shower and went to the lockers with his towel still around his neck, trying to avoid getting his shirt wet. Winters in Toronto were a nightmare and he had to cling to the smallest bit of warmth he could get. He noticed that everyone had left the room and sighed in relief.

              His joy was short-lived, however, since Javier seemed to be waiting for him in the entrance hall of the club, his skating bag at his feet and nose buried in his phone. Yuzuru took a moment to appreciate his rosy cheeks and lively hands, fingers flying over his keyboard with an energy only he could muster after more than four hours on the ice. The younger one had to respect how the break up had barely seemed to impact him. Javier was Javier, a smiling ray of sunshine in this club and everyone’s friend. Well, everyone’s but Yuzuru but that was relatively understandable.

              The Japanese skater marched toward the exit, jaw set and hand firmly clenched around his suitcase’s handle. His heart was beating way too fast in his chest and his mind was chanting prayer. Hopefully, Javier was waiting for someone else or he was just waiting for something else and would let Yuzuru go.

“Yuzu!” The voice rang behind him and he turned around slowly.

“Yes?”

              Javier walked to him slowly and looking uncertain. He was biting his lip again which annoyed his former partner. Would the man ever learn not to destroy his face entirely before a competition? He didn’t say anything though, just stared right back.

“I wanted to know how you were doing,” started the Spaniard. “We are many people worried about you here…”

“I’m fine. Stop worrying.” Yuzuru’s words were hard to say and he nearly tripped over them.

“Can we not lie to each other? That’s not very us, is it?”

              The Japanese skater felt tears prickling his eyes and for once he decided it would be okay to let them go. He was done pretending, at least in front of Javier. That was probably mean, to remind him of what they had lost, mean to show him how much he hurt, but he had never been able to lie to him for long. He was so lonely, so tired…

“I take that as a no, then…” Whispered Javier taking a step forward, his face contorted with his own sadness.

              They both knew that it was hard on the other. The break up had left them both missing a huge part of their lives, their best friend and lover. And it was not about lacking love, in the end, it had been about moving toward different directions and not being able to do it with the other, not completely. And it was that truth, the fact that they both loved each other still but could not act upon it that made it so painful.

The older one seemed to hesitate before opening his arms for a hug. “Just tonight, come here.”

              Yuzuru wanted to say yes, he wanted to wrap his arms around the body facing him, wanted to get lost in the familiar smell of the other’s cologne. But walking there wouldn’t change the fact that there wasn’t an “us” for them anymore, wasn’t anything to save from what they had gone through. They had to grieve their love.

He shook his head with a sad but resigned smile. “No. I think I go home and you go home and we don’t talk.”

              Javier seemed about to cry which was never a good sign. Javier cried very little in general unlike Yuzuru who was very open about his feelings and had eyes that excelled at producing tears for the smallest things. His former partner, on the contrary, had always been good at holding his composure. However, there were tears prickling his eyelashes and his face was open, vulnerable.

“Please…”

And sure, he shouldn’t do it, that was not how a healthy recovery should go but Javier had begged him and he couldn’t refuse. “Once.” He warned before taking two steps forward and engulfing the other in a rather desperate hug.

              The hands around him were just as strong as he remembered. They anchored him in the present as well as they used to. The warmth was the same, the feeling was incomparable. They used to have easy hugs for everything. At competitions, in the morning to greet each other, during practice, after a long day, in front of a stupid movie, group hugs during exhibitions, after winning a game and their night hugs, just before going to sleep. Thousands of small touches for two years then nothing for about two months. And now this hug, filled of longing, of unsaid insecurities, of a love that could no longer be, and it was an entirely different feeling.

              He felt the Spaniard’s first sob more than he heard it and instinctively he embraced him tighter. His hands started rubbing his back slowly and he prevented himself from burying his nose in the short curly hair. That would have been a bit much, surely. His resolve almost crumbled when Javier nuzzled his nose in the Japanese’s neck. Some tears were sliding on his skin, but if he forgot that, he could almost imagine that this was one of their regular hugs.

              And that was when all the alarms in his head went off. This felt too good, too normal. He could get used to hugging again; he already had gone too far. Remembering their nice memories while being so close would only result in more heartbreak. He also had to think for the both of them, and if Javier felt that bad, it wouldn’t help for them to cling to each other. If it had only been up to him, they would take this and rebuild what they had destroyed but he remembered his lover’s question. _Could you put your ambition on hold for us?_ The answer was no. He loved Javier, really, but his ambition, his greed, his pride… They were his driving forces and he could not promise to drop them, could not promise to change so much.

              Knowing that, in the end, there was no escaping the truth; he just untangled himself from the other and took his face between his fingers. The hazel eyes were drowned and Yuzuru wished he could take the pain away. Wasn’t it ironic that tonight he was the one to understand why they couldn’t go on? That, after weeks of praying for a moment like this, he would be the one to pull off?

“Javi, look me.” He whispered. “I know it hurt. But you are right. I can’t stop. I want too much. Not same you want. We must go on.”

              The Spaniard shook his head, refusing to hear what he was saying. The younger one could understand, it was hard to accept that nothing they would try and say would matter when what they yearned for was not the same. They would only get more hurt. That’s what was playing in his mind to keep him away. The fear of inflicting anymore pain.

“Please, Javi…” He whispered, his face way too close to the other’s. Their lips were merely centimeters apart and their breath mingled. This was already way too intimate. “You see it first and I understand. Help us…”

              He felt the move forward and he backed down, taking Javier’s chin between his fingers to keep him away. Hugging was already bad enough, they didn’t need to kiss, forget what all of this was about only to be brought back to reality. They had to let go as soon as possible.

“I miss you…” confessed Javier.

“I know. I miss you too…”

              The Spaniard nodded and took Yuzuru’s fingers away from his face. He kept them in his hand, playing with them softly as they had used to whenever they could do it. The Japanese man felt the need to cry again and sighed. He should be done crying about it, there was no point anymore, was there?

“I think you go back home.” He said, carefully. “Here are too much memories. Not good for us.”

              He got a nod in response so he took his fingers back from Javier’s grip and grabbed his suitcase with a pretty shaky hand. Breathing deeply he walked past his former boyfriend. He quickly brushed his hand before exiting the club. His mind was clearer, calmer. He had done what needed to be done, and no matter how much they both hurt today, they would get over it eventually. They still had so much to live, and no, it would not include the other, but it didn’t mean it wouldn’t be fantastic.

 

              The Olympics were a mouthful to say the least. Between the Team Event and the Single Event, there was no time to breathe or to consider what was happening. Before he knew, the Team Event had come and gone and Japan had earned the silver medal, mainly thanks to Shoma and Satoko. He had crashed in both programs, to everyone’s surprise, barely getting 260 points total. He felt wrong standing on the podium with the others, he had failed them.

              During that event, they learnt a couple things. First, they should stop brushing Kolyada aside since he had achieved the feat of getting the silver medal for the free program between Shoma and Nathan. Second, that a competition was made of both, the short and the long program and that failing in one might cost you the first and the second place, no matter if you destroyed the world record for the free skate like Nathan did. And third, you could be a favorite but crash and burn just as well as any underdog.

              Yuzuru knew Brian was worried about his moral entering the single event but he shouldn’t. Yuzuru meant it, when he skated on his letting go program. He had learnt that the past was behind you and that you only had to focus on what you could achieve from now. It didn’t prevent nostalgia but it helped focusing on the next thing, which for him was no less than keeping his status of Olympic Champion.

              He took the ice on the Short-Program with a confidence that nobody had been expecting. He was skating last of the last group thanks to his ranking as the best skater in the world. Others had got scores that could make you feel dizzy like Nathan and his 105.62, Shoma and his 107.08 and Javier with a very respectable 104.23. But he was not impressed. He still held the World Record with 110.95 and he knew he could do better, if only he could land his quad Salchow triple toe combination.

              The first notes played in the arena and he took a deep breath before taking off. The music carried him through his program. First the quad loop with the arms flourish at the end, then the first spin. The steps. A second spin. The combination of doom from a spread eagle because why not. The triple axel from a back counter ending in the last spin. He went through each element easily, just like he had done so many times in practice. This program was probably the best short he’d ever had and he had skated on Parisian Walkways.

              The kiss and cry there was tensionless. He had done what he could with as much poise as he had been able to summon and Brian had given him that proud father look that spoke volumes. His score would be insane, it wasn’t even a question. But when he saw the 111.25, he nearly screamed in joy. He had a new world record, a new personal best (obviously), and he had thrown down the gauntlet. He was here to defend his title.

              However, there was no time for contentment, the free skate was planned for the day after and there was a lot to do still. Everything could change, he was less than five points ahead of Shoma and last year at Worlds, he had proven that even ten points were not a gap big enough when you skated clean. And both Shoma and Nathan had higher base values than he did. That’s why he had taken a surprisingly dangerous decision at the beginning of the season. While, in most competitions, he would skate his new free program, in the Olympics, he would bring back Seimei, only with a new layout.

              Brian had opposed that decision at first, because Seimei was a reminiscence of the past, a program he had struggled through the last time he had skated it and, more notably, that meant he would have to train for two free programs throughout the season. But Yuzuru had been adamant. Seimei was his most beloved program, his most consistent one. It was delicate and martial and mind-blowing. He felt like a warrior skating it and he needed that confidence if he wanted to achieve his goal. So he took the music, brought it back to Shae-Lynn with his layout and she had openly gaped at him, probably wondering about his mental health.

“Are you sure?” She had asked. “Five quads is a lot, you only did three on this one last time.”

“Sure.”

              So here he was, the afternoon after the short, standing on the ice, two fingers raised in front of his heart, body ready to go at the first sound. The crowd had cheered excessively loudly when he had entered the arena in his white and purple costume, recognizing what was about to happen.

              And happen it did. Not only did he land his five quads (though the combination with a Salchow got a -2 GOE for a hand down) but he also raised the crowd to his feet during his final choreographed sequence, and the triple axel he landed after his Ina Bauer might not have been the prettiest one ever but it made the arena roar with him. And as he stood, gasping for air, in the middle of the ice, he felt the immensity of what he had done. He had skated a program with five quads and two triple axels clean during the Olympics after a record short program. The medal was his. He was the first Olympic champion, ever, to defend his title.

              Once again, the Kiss and Cry was nothing but a celebration. Both him and Brian were holding back their tears for this exceptional moment. And when the 227.50 appeared on the screen, he felt joy flowing over him. He had beaten Nathan’s world record of 226.57 and his own total of 330.43 with his new record of 338.75. And as the last skater, he now knew. He was Olympic Champion. Again. He fell into Brian’s arms, openly sobbing and knew his coach was shedding a few tears himself.  This was his legacy. This was why he trained so much, what he was reaching for. His dream was coming true and yet he could already see the next Olympics and wondered if maybe he could achieve that?

              Yuzuru was proud. Of himself, of his skating, of the people around him and of his fans. He was proud of what he had achieved so far in his life but also proud of what he could achieve later. Because he may be proud, but above all he was ambitious. He wanted the world to know and remember his name; he wanted to leave a distinctive mark on the sport so that in fifty years people would still know him. And today, he had made sure of that. Despite the pressure, the media doubting him because of his dramatic failure at the Team event, despite the young generation pushing him out with all their new quads, and despite his still very much broken heart, he had been able to deliver the strongest program of his life. Of everyone’s life.

              Everything was buzzing around Yuzuru as he went through the standard procedure of the free skate press conference, barely noticing Shoma on his right and Javier on his left. He did not answer to many questions, he was a bit amazed at himself, at what was happening, he needed time to realize his achievement.

              It took him more than two hours to realize. It was only when he jumped on the highest step of the podium that it hit him really and that his mind gave up on its auto piloting mode. Standing there, on top of the world, with a sea of journalists stretching at his feet, calling his name, his friends (or at least colleagues) stepping on their own spot, he was the Olympic Champion. Twice an Olympic Champion.

              The Olympic Committee representative came to him with a huge golden medal and he bowed down to let them put it around his neck. Straightening up he took it in his hand and looked at him, a radiant smile on his face. This one felt ten times better than the one in Sochi. It might not be as pretty, might look a little plastic-y but he had won it, really. Not because someone else had failed but because he had triumphed. Well, Nathan’s fall on his opening combination sure had helped but that was a detail.

              The moment on the podium, with his anthem playing brought tears to his eyes. This time he had not failed his country, his fans or anyone else for that matter. He could stand proud and enjoy and he let the waves of happiness and pride wash over him without trying to contain the small giggles that formed from times to times.

              But after all high comes a down and his stroke hard and fast like a bolt of lightning. He was sitting at the dinner table with his family, safely back in Japan nearly two weeks after the Olympics. They were chatting about everything and nothing when his sister asked the question that brought him down so violently.

“And now what?”

              It was a good question. He had not withdrawn from Worlds and would leave for Italy in a week or so, not even going to Toronto in the mean time. Rare had been the skaters to confirm they would be competing at worlds but among them there was Shoma and Nathan and that would be fun, no doubt about it.

              But after Worlds, he really didn’t know. He knew that he should probably retire for the next season to take time to rest his body and his mind, to take some time to practice new elements like his quad Lutz which was still relatively inconsistent and his quadruple Axel that he had landed twice to this day for about two thousand failed attempts. But what was there left for him outside? His whole life was about skating, he had graduated from University but could probably not commit to a full time job because he needed to keep skating. He didn’t have anyone waiting for him neither in Toronto, nor here. He had a couple friends that would keep competing including Shoma and Evgenia. He had nothing to do, no purpose.

              And there, there was the matter of his ego. He had achieved so much, had won so many medals, why stop there? He could be the only skater to ever get six Grand Prix Final titles in a row, win a third World to rival Patrick’s medal case. He could try to finally win his first ever four continents? Reclaim his national title? Maybe he could even upgrade his program to add another quad, the Lutz? Six quads, four different kinds and the quadruple Axel in preparation, he would be invincible. And no one, ever, would forget him…

              Yes, he should be retiring, his body needed rest, but no, he would not back down now. He was maybe greedy, but it wasn’t as if anything were waiting for him outside of the skating world. He had ruined a perfect relationship for his dream; he wouldn’t make all that pain worthless.

“And now I skate. I keep pushing my limits and everyone else’s. I become a legend.”

              With that simple statement, everyone went back to eating in comfortable silence, but Yuzuru felt queasy. He had never really paid attention to what he could really do after his years of competitive skating, had never seriously considered his life beyond this point. Now that he was actually wondering what else there was in life than skating, he found that he couldn’t see much. What would he do? Yes, he would achieve his dreams until he could no longer dream, that was a cute thing to say, but what would he do, age 35, when he wouldn’t be able to even land a quadruple loop because his body was too tired?

              As he had just very nicely pointed out, his life was skating. There was nothing else to it, really. He didn’t have that many friends and he only saw them a couple of times a year in competitions. They would stay on the circuit when he leaves. He didn’t have a lover anymore to pay attention to and to spoil once he was retired. He was alone and futureless.

That was not the most heartwarming realization to have after achieving your biggest dream.

 

 

              Of course, disasters never came alone. He competed at worlds, proud of his Olympic medal and terrifyingly self-confident. Well, until Boyang decided to come forward with his five _different_ quads. And Nathan with his seven quads layout. And Shoma with his artistry and… Long-story short, the reigning World champion and Olympic champion finished fifth, humiliated and bitter. He still clapped when the sQuad ascended the podium, one at a time, dazzling smiles on his face, but he suddenly wished he had withdrawn. Especially since in fourth place was Mikhail Kolyada and not Patrick Chan or Javier Fernandez. He could usually beat most of the four people above him with sloppy landings or even falls on his jumps, but he had bombed his free skate.

His down seemed to last much longer than his high, didn’t it?

              He should have been relieved to not being forced to attend the official press conference but he knew better than to expect not to have any camera on him the moment he stepped out of the locker room. The mixed zone was buzzing with Japanese media, all trying to spot him, and when they finally did, they started a small riot in order to come closer to him.

He breathed in, trying to settle his nerves before offering a weak smile. “Thank you for coming here.”

              He looked around, trying to find anyone that could help him get out but Brian was with Jun-Hwan who had finished last after the free skate, which, for a senior world debut was not a disaster but still. The boy needed his coach more than Yuzuru and his first off-podium finish since 2014 and the NHK trophy. In the zone there were Patrick talking quietly to his coach, Javier, who was joking around with Mikhail and Jason. And none of them seemed to worry much about him dying trampled by the media. He started paying attention to what was being told to him. The questions were pretty standard about his feelings, his intentions for next year including but not limited to retirement, outline and objectives.

And then there was a question that threw him off. “Yuzuru-senshu, if I may, we have heard that Javier Fernandez would be retiring after the end of next season and I was wondering what your opinion on that was?”

Yuzuru nodded and looked for his words, throat tight. “I have been very happy to train with Javier and I think the sport will miss him dearly, I hope he will be happy.”

There were a lot of weird looks thrown at him. “Yes,” continued the reporter, “but what is your personal opinion on the matter?”

              In the end, this kind of questions had always been around him and Javier, along the years. Asked to find more about their relationship as rivals and friends. There had been so many speculations on them and they had said too much, reinforcing them. Javier announcing he would be retiring at the end of the 2018-2019 season was no surprise but, of course, the media would want to hear his take on that, want to hear him say that he would miss him.

But he could not. “I think it will be weird to train without Javier, he’s always been in Toronto with me…”

The reporter frowned and cut him off. “My question then is what happened between you and Mr. Fernandez? We used to see you being friendly to each other for the past six years and now we don’t see you being remotely polite. Are you mad at each other?”

              A deep silence followed that question. Even for Western media, this question would have seemed rude and intrusive, but for Japanese news, that was almost impossible. And yet here they were, staring at the man with dumbfounded faces and Yuzuru stuttering on his words, trying to manage an answer but barely pulling off tiny sounds that could not qualify as words. His heart was beating too fast in his chest, his palms were sweating and he didn’t know what to say or if he could even say anything. He could not pretend they were still close, could not say why they weren’t and he suddenly wished he could disappear in the ground.

              Help came in the form of Javier, detaching himself from Mikhail and coming to stand next to Yuzuru, a hand between his shoulder blades and a frown on his face. He’d crossed the sea of reporters with ease and seemed upset by them, though they all knew he couldn’t have understood a single thing except maybe his name.

“I think Yuzuru has to go home and rest.” He said in English, glaring at everyone. “He had a tough day and you are making it worse.”

              Everyone was still staring at Javier in silence but he had stopped paying attention to them. He just grabbed Yuzuru’s wrist and led him through the crowd back to the locker room the door of which he closed with a little more violence than needed. The Japanese was stuck in one place, eyes lost in the distance, brain trying to process what had just happened. Not only had he been assaulted by misplaced curiosity but he had completely shut down, making it obvious that there was more to the story than just either of them focusing on their career. More questions would come soon, more insistent and he would have to answer them and…

“Yuzu, look at me, will you?” Asked Javier.

The younger obeyed and before he knew it, he was bowing and apologizing. “I’m sorry Javier, I know I have to tell something but I can’t…”

Suddenly there were two large hands on both sides of his face, keeping him still and anchoring him a little. “It’s okay, Yuzu, it’s okay.”

              No, it was not okay. This was a mess. People shouldn’t be so interested in their lives outside of the rink, for God’s sake! They were athletes, not actors, and their sport was not the most famous or the most glamorous. A lot of skaters had to work their asses off to be able to keep competing and they were too busy or not interested in dating most of the time. Gossiping shouldn’t be such a big thing but, somehow, about Javier and him, it was and it had always been. Was it because people liked the idea of two rivals falling in love? Was it because they liked being nosy? Couldn’t they wait for them to be ready to tell them instead of speculating? Yuzuru knew he was panicking, he could feel his breath coming in short puffs that left him light headed. At least the full on panic attack was partly managed by Javier instructing him how to breathe and massaging his back.

              It took a while before his brain cleared out and when it did, Yuzuru jumped back (well, actually forward). He had been pressed, his back against Javier’s front, the arms of the Spaniard rubbing his shoulders or his fingers running in his hair. This was not safe at all, this was not normal and he should have not relaxed. Because it would be too easy to start hoping about them getting back together when the older one was being so nice and considerate and looking at him with those soft, gentle eyes.

“Please,” whispered Yuzuru.

The other one looked a bit lost. “Please what? Are you feeling better?”

The Japanese nodded, biting his lips. “Please, don’t be like that with me…”

“Sorry, I thought you needed it and I know this used to calm you when…”

“When we are together, yes.” Finished Yuzuru, eyes cast downwards.

“Oh…”

              Javier seemed to have understood and that created an awkward silence between them. What was there to say? It had been three months. They had barely spoken and had never touched. They hadn’t even congratulated each other by text for their respective Olympic medals, hadn’t even called for New Year. They didn’t speak during practice. In competitions, they avoided each other.

Javier tried to change topic. “What did they want?”

Yuzuru looked at the wall behind him. “They want I talk about you.”

“I see.”

“You retiring next year?” Asked the Japanese man.

“Yep. Time for me. Is that what it was about?”

Yuzuru nodded. “They want I say I think about it. Why we stopping to talk.”

“I see.” Repeated Javier. “I guess that’s when you stopped talking?”

“I don’t know what I can say. We stop talking and I can’t say why to people. So I feel…”

“Trapped?” Supplemented Javier.  
“Yes, trap. And I didn’t know what I can say…”

              Yuzuru finally looked at the other man only to find a small, sad smile on his face. His eyes were full of concern and he wanted to embrace him, to find comfort against him. He wanted to kiss him, just because kissing Javi had always made him feel a thousand times better. His fingers tingled from the longing. They hadn’t run in those short curls in forever, had they?

Javier seemed to understand. “Yuzu…” He sighed.

“I know…” Was it what it felt like to choke? Not being able to get rid of the lump in his throat?

“You have to let go.”

“I try but you hug me and I…” He felt ashamed when his voice broke. Well, at least he wasn’t crying.

“I’m sorry about that.” Repeated Javier. “I just saw you panicking and I didn’t know if you had your inhaler with you. I’ve grown weary of panic attacks with your asthma.”

They both sent a vaguely teary smile to the other. This hurt but they did care about each other.

“Thank you, I think Brian have it.” Admitted Yuzuru.

“Don’t worry.”

              Yuzuru felt it bubbling in his chest, the need to beg Javier to come back. He was doing a bit better, he was, thanks to the Olympics and his success, but his feelings were still here. There were still times when he woke up expecting Javier to be in his bed, snoring softly. He still thought about him when having chocolate mousse and about their quiet evenings under a blanket on the sofa, watching movies for hours on end knowing they’d be exhausted for morning practice but too comfortable to move. He also remembered the small fights about lapses in communication, their weeks without seeing each other, the bitterness of not being able to tell other people and the feeling he had got when he had seen Javier for the first time after his world record at the Grand Prix Final. He was recovering, but like any other wound, this one would need time to become an almost invisible scar.

“Are you doing alright, I mean, in general?” Asked Javier. “I know today has been pretty rough for you so I won’t ask for more but you seem to be healthy. Brian told me you had successfully landed a quad Axel the other week so I should probably congratulate you. I never doubted you would be the one to do it but…”

“Please.” Yuzuru asked and from his former boyfriend’s face he knew that he had misunderstood. “Thank you but I don’t really want to talk. I want to but I can’t. I need to forget. I need to…”

“To heal?”

“Yes. I can’t talk.”

              Javier nodded, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Yuzuru knew he’d been rude, that Javier only wanted the best for him, that he was trying to make him feel more comfortable and to help him. He wasn’t trying to ask some twisted thing out of him, wasn’t wanting too much, but this couldn’t do. There was too much history between them for Yuzuru to be able to just chat like friends, as if he didn’t yearn for a hug.

There was nothing else to say so he just walked to Javier and patted him on the shoulder. “Thank you for helping. You are nice with me.”

              He exited the room, noticing that the crowd had left, probably tired of waiting for him. Or maybe someone had thrown them out. Either way, the Japanese man was feeling thankful, he wasn’t sure he would be able to deal with anyone right now, he still felt a bit shaken. He needed to get to the hotel, run a bath for himself and focus on why he had landed on the fifth place instead of landing his very reliable triple axel triple toe combination.

 

 

              Whoever said the off-season was a relaxing time clearly had never trained under Brian Orser and Tracy Wilson with a constant horde of journalists running after them. Whether it was about his ambitions to reclaim his World and National Titles, his advice for younger skaters as an Olympic Champion or to gossip about his relationship with Javier, Yuzuru was constantly followed by a dozen people shouting the weirdest questions ever. Not only was it annoying for him but both his mom and Tracy had complained about the ruckus that accompanied him everywhere. It was disturbing younger skaters, disturbing the neighborhood and was slowly starting to challenge his own mental health.

              However, it seemed that no matter how many times Brian asked them to leave, they would camp outside the club. And when Javier came in for his own training, he would bring his flock and one of them would have to leave to prevent an invasion of the rink. That was rather mortifying and frankly impossible to live.

              On the sixth week of this hell, Javier finally broke. When he arrived to the club, there was Yuzuru’s group swarming around the door, blocking his path entirely, and the reporters behind him kept kicking his suitcase, twisting his wrist. At least that’s what he said to Brian to explain what had happened.

              They hadn’t heard everything, but when the crowd outside started roaring, both Brian and Yuzuru had left the ice, barely taking time to put on their guards before running outside. They found themselves behind about six people who were blocking the way. Pushing their way around, they eventually ended up next to the Spaniard who seemed furious.

“I think we have all made clear that we did not want to be disturbed here,” shouted Javier. “Yuzuru has asked you calmly to step back and so have I, so why the fuck are you still here?”

              This was bad, thought Yuzuru. Javier needed to keep a positive image, he had sponsors that would let him go if he kept acting like an angry teenager, and he didn’t want to see his ex-boyfriend work to pay for the coaching fees, that would feel awkward. And, after all, Spain was looking up to him and footage of this outburst could ruin the progress the sport had made there thanks to him. He placed a calming hand on the other’s shoulder.

“I think Javi want you go because we want to skate in peace.” He said politely, bowing around. “He don’t want being rude but season was tired and we need to train hard.”

Brian took up there. “I understand that you want to talk to both of our champions but hunting them down is only making it harder for them to focus on their training. You have had several press conferences to ask them questions and you will have many more opportunities to interview them in the future so we would like you to go through official canals please. This cannot continue any further.”

              The reporters had stopped to listen to them, but as soon as Brian was done, they started shouting questions again about the relationship between the boys and the rumors of a quarrel between them. Yuzuru, who still had his hand on Javier’s shoulder, grabbed his wrist and led him inside behind their coach, benefiting from the path he was creating. They got in under the flashes of the cameras and drew in a collective breath.

“They really have to go.” Stated Brian. “I don’t care why or how but you have to give them a statement boys, whatever its content. I don’t know what happened between the two of you and usually I would say that this is none of my concern, but now it is driving us all crazy. Tell them whatever you want, the truth or not, but do something. If you don’t want to talk to them, you could release a joint statement in Spanish, Japanese and English giving a credible explanation about you two not even giving each other a second look when you can avoid it, have I made myself clear?”

They both nodded head down. They looked like children who were being scolded by their father and the coach sighed. “If you need any help or guidance, remember that we are all your friends here, especially Tracy and me. We can help you and if you need to talk about whatever you’ve both been going through, we will listen. But please, sort it out for everyone’s well being, including yours.”

Yuzuru smiled at him softly. “Thank you, coach.”

              Brian smiled, gave both of them a nod and went back to the rink in a rather elegant way for someone who was mounted on skates and walking on his guards. Javier and Yuzuru were left standing in the hallway, trying not to look at each other. The younger one realized he was still holding the other’s wrist and quickly withdrew his hand, already bowing and apologizing.

Javier put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. Brian’s right. We need to fix this mess we’ve gotten into.”

              Instead of walking to the rink, they went to the break room and sat down in silence, trying to think about it. It took them more than two hours to agree on a ten lines text about their relationship and the rumors surrounding it. They reassured everyone that they were still in good terms, thank you for worrying, but that they had just moved a bit further apart as both needed to focus on their futures which were not going to converge for much longer for Javier was, indeed, going to retire after the next World Championships when Yuzuru reaffirmed his wish to keep skating until at least the next Olympic season, implying that he wanted to win a third title. That would probably deflect most rumors and give reporters food for thought about both of their future.

 

What neither of them had expected was the actual shit storm that came about five months later.

              Well, Yuzuru had kind of thought about it when, about three months after the press incident, he saw Emma entering the rink. She and Javier had been neighbors for about four years and they’d spent quite a few nights playing video games while eating pizza when Yuzuru had come over. She’d always opened the doors when he had called her because he had forgotten his keys, and though they’d never told her they were dating, she had always seemed to know. Yuzuru liked her quite a lot. And with her being here, he guessed Javier still liked her.

              He skated to her to greet her. She seemed out of place in her black shorts and blue tank top, her golden skin covered with goose bumps. Her midnight black hair was tied in a ponytail and her black eyes were highlighted by her light yet skillful makeup. She was gorgeous, and she was freezing. He was about two meters away when she saw him and her mouth opened in a surprised “O” shape that made him second guess his decision.

“Yuzuru!” She exclaimed, butchering her name the exact same way Javier had when they had met. “I didn’t think I would see you here!”

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “I train here.”

She blushed, dipping her head, a strand of hair escaping the hair tie to fall in front of her face. “Right. How are you doing?”

She was uncomfortable, he could see it. “Fine, thank you. And you?”

“I’m alright. Would you happen to know where Javi is?”

He didn’t want to let his face express the hurt he felt inside. He knew she wouldn’t come as a friend; Javier hated to have his friends coming to see him at the rink. However, he did invite his partners to include them more in his life. He had done so with Cortney, had often invited Yuzuru along for his practices, even when the Japanese was on his day off, but had always refused to invite Emma before because friends would only distract him. Go figure.

“He went to shower. He finish skating ten minutes before.”

“Okay,” she said with a forced smile. “I’ll wait for him outside then, _vale_?”

              He nodded weakly and saw her escaping the rink with his mouth slightly ajar. He sure hadn’t seen that coming. Emma, sweet, nice Emma, was visiting Javier at the rink. More than just that, she had traded her comfortable sweatpants and tee-shirts for an actual pair of shorts and a cleavage? This girl was not here as a friend, he wouldn’t believe it. She had come to pick Javier up. They lived in the same building and she was a home-based tech entrepreneur. They were going on a date.

              Yuzuru had been doing better. Really he had. Except that the man he was still in love with had a date with his neighbor with whom they’d both spent a lot of time with and had not thought about maybe asking her not to come in the building until he’d warned his very much heartbroken ex-boyfriend. What a class act.

Tracy skated to him and gave him a weird look. “Who was this young lady? A fan?”

“I think she is Javi new girlfriend,” he squeaked.

“Oh, he told me he’d met a nice girl. She sure is pretty, isn’t she?” Joked his coach and Yuzuru forced a laugh but he was feeling everything but happy.

“I go tell him she wait him.” He excused himself.

“Ha-ha, you’re right, the lady shouldn’t wait for the trump.” She called after him.

              He wasn’t sure he had understood what Tracy meant but that barely mattered. Javier had told her about the girl he’d met. He’d told her that he was thinking about dating. He shouldn’t be shocked, they had broken up nine months ago, surely that was enough for both of them to start dating again, they couldn’t stop living after the break up. However, no matter how hard he tried, Yuzuru still had feelings toward Javier. He was learning to let go, learning to live with the mistakes and differences that had drown them apart, but he was still not over it. That might have seemed silly but he knew his feelings were legitimate. Javier seemed to have learnt faster and the Japanese could not blame him. On the contrary, he should be happy that at least one of them was a well-functioning adult moving on with his life.

              He opened the door to the locker room to find the Spaniard standing in the middle, still dressed in his training gear, trying to fit his skates in his bag with very little success. They were new boots and climbed higher on the leg making them harder to fit. When Yuzuru entered he smiled at him, a bit embarrassed. He hadn’t realized that fleeing here would actually mean having to face his old flame but well, he would have to deal with it eventually, right? He stepped closer to Javier and started to hold the zip together to help the other close the bag.

“Thanks,” acknowledged the Spaniard. “I guess I’ll have to buy another bag.” Yuzuru made a neutral noise. “You wanted something?”

“Emma is here,” announced the younger one, trying to force a smile on his face. “I tell her I go look for you.”

              The expression on Javier’s face was a mix of horror and shame. Yuzuru soon diverted his gaze to the clean clothes and towel piled up on the bench. He knew that his former lover was trying to decide how he must feel about it and how to announce his new relationship to him. They both stayed like that moments before Javier’s sigh.

“I should have told you,” he eventually admitted.

“Yes.”

“I guess it’s too late to tell you I am dating her?”

Yuzuru failed to contain a bitter, pitiful laugh. “Yep.”

“She told you?”

“No. I guess. You don’t like friends here. She scaring skating. She wait for you.”

“Right. I’m sorry.”

              The apology didn’t make Yuzuru feel better. He just felt empty now. He wanted to go home and call Saya. He had told his sister about the debacle with Javier and she had called him once a day, twice when both men had to interact, ever since. For about four months he’d been able to complain to his sister. She was patient with him, maybe too much. Maybe he should have “manned up” by now and moved on. Well, it wouldn’t be for today.

“You don’t do wrong.” He said between gritted teeth, trying to sound sincere and failing miserably.

“We both know that’s not true. I should have told you, but to be honest I was scared.”

“Of me?” Asked Yuzuru.

“I was scared of hurting you. I know it’s been rough for you these past months, and this is very new so I didn’t want to hurt you until I was sure that this would hold…”

“How long?”

“A month. A bit less.” Confessed Javier. “She knows about us, knocked at my door to ask about you, why you were not coming anymore. I told her and she made sure I wouldn’t feel alone.”

              This sentence was innocent enough but Yuzuru hated to think about them cooking together or watching a show under the plaid he had gifted to Javier for their first Christmas. Well, two weeks after their first Christmas, Japanese Nationals happened on the 24th. He didn’t care much about them sharing a bed, bodies were not hearts and he didn’t think much of sex. Hell, Javier could have fooled around with her if he wanted when they had been together, he wouldn’t have given a damn, but they were dating. They wanted to build something together.

“Okay.” He managed to say it with a relatively steady voice.

Javier was still starring at him, concerned. “Are you going to be fine?”

“Yes.”

“Sure?”

“I’ll be fine Javier,” he said with a smile. Well a forced smile but at least he had tried. “You move on, fine.”

              Javier offered him a soft smile before taking three steps forward and hugging him close. He smelt of sweat which was uncomfortable, but Yuzuru just closed his arms around him and buried his nose in his hair. They both knew there wouldn’t be any hug after that. Not one, ever. This was a promise to let each other go. He didn’t really care if he was crying (he was not) but he could feel the older man’s tears on the bare skin of his neck and that was something else entirely. He slowly rubbed the other’s back, trying to help him when the door opened.

              They both detached to find Brian on the doorstep, looking extremely embarrassed. Javier just fled, taking his clean clothes to go take his shower, leaving Yuzuru alone with their coach. They stared at each other for a while before the Canadian signaled him to come with him. They both crossed half of the building to end up in Brian’s office, and before he knew it, Yuzuru was seating in one of the armchairs with a cup of black tea and with his coach looking at him.

“Are you okay?” He asked in a low, soothing voice.

“Not really.” Said Yuzuru. He was too emotionally exhausted to lie and well, Javier had told him he could tell their coach long ago.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Javi and I we are together before…” He started, his voice firm but not knowing how to explain.

“Not anymore I take it?”

Yuzuru shook his head. “Now he has girlfriend.”

Brian offered him a gentle, comforting smile. “I’m sorry. Is that why you stopped talking?”

“It hurts talking with him,” he confessed.

“And the hugging?”

“I tell him I am fine. I have to. We are adults, not child. He can live. Me too.”

Brian nodded along. “That’s very noble of you.”

Yuzuru shrugged. “I don’t have choice. Yes?”

“I guess not.”

“Then is not brave, is what it is,” he declared.

              There was a silence between them with Brian staring at him as if he were trying to understand how he thinks, what he thinks of the situation. It was not intrusive, just uncomfortable and Yuzuru stared at the cup between his hands, filling him with warmth. He didn’t like black tea alone, would rather have green tea or litchi-flavored black tea but at least it was not coffee.

“I think I change coach, before,” he admitted in a low voice. “I didn’t want to train with Javi because I hurt. But I like here. I like training with Tracy and you. I like Toronto even if I have to use English. And I can’t leave because I need here. So I live here. And Javi too.”

“Is that why you chose “Howl’s moving castle” as your free skate music?” Asked Brian, curious.

“Yes. Movie is about loyalty to me. And I must stay me. And the music makes me think of surviving.”

“I think Shae-Lynn said you thought about a rocky road that you had to take, you might be injured or slip but you have to take it because at the end of the path you will find what you are looking for.”

Yuzuru smiled at his coach. “Path is hard but I can do it and be better. I can realize my dream.”

              It was never easy to communicate together, but maybe that, for once, Brian knew what his student was trying to achieve. He understood better both Yuzuru and Javier with their suddenly much more significant programs about heartbreak and being a better self. He realized why both of them have been rather bad during the season and could only admire Yuzuru for pulling off the skate of his life at the Olympics.

“And what is that dream, mister double Olympic Champion?”

The Japanese man paused and seemed to look for his words. The Canadian waited patiently. “I think I want to find way to…” he scrunched his face in frustration, “inspire? Yes, inspire people. This season, I want people to believe in me and them. We can survive and be strong. Earthquake. End of something. You can and must move on. I want to express that on the ice.”

              Brian got up and put a hand on his pupil’s shoulder. There was no need to respond to that, he knew it. Yuzuru had his goal set and he wouldn’t waver. He didn’t need to be talked into training; he needed to be given an opportunity to express himself in whatever way he wanted to. He seemed to know it because he just got up and shook his coach’s hand before going back to the rink and getting warmed up again. Tracy looked at Brian with a myriad of questions in her eyes and he just smiled at her. They would be fine. Even when Yuzuru fell on his newly acquired quadruple Lutz he kept smiling. There was nothing to worry about.

 

 

              Except that there was, when, a month later, some Japanese journalists saw Javier having coffee with a charming young lady and holding hands with her. This started a huge fuss around his new relationship and, suddenly, reporters were back around the rink, wanting to know more about the woman. And then there were those who had pieced things together and were trying to get a statement from Yuzuru.

              The first day they realized what had happened was when Yuzuru’s mother warned him that she had called a cab for him to go at the rink because there were five paparazzi in front of their front door. Neither had understood until Brian had called them to tell them it was linked to both Yuzuru and Javier but that they would talk more about it at the rink.

              When he arrived at the club, the Japanese man gasped at the number of people that had already piled up against the doors, trying to catch a glimpse of either him or his former boyfriend. He sighed, pulled his hood up and adjusted his mask before starting to push. It took very little time for the crowd to recognize him and he found himself trapped in the middle of the group, trying to access the rink without getting knocked out by the cameras. Some reporters were shoving microphones in his face, others didn’t hesitate in taking pictures and he wondered exactly why they were acting so wild today, it was very unusual for both his long-time stalkers and his new ones to try to prevent him from moving. At least, he was an athlete training all of his muscles daily and they were not. He might not be tall or very muscular but he was strong both physically and in will and in less than five minutes he had succeeded crossing the mess only greeting the people he knew among the journalists. One had to stay polite.

              Once inside, he took a minute to breath before going to drop his suitcase and bag in the locker room. He bought time by arranging his hair and taking off his jacket, not really enthusiastic about having to go and talk with Brian (and probably Tracy) and Javier about his relationship with the latter. They were done, he was finally feeling fine with it, and he didn’t need another troubled season.

              He finally gathered the courage to leave the room to go to Brian’s office. Upon entering, he knew that he shouldn’t have got up this morning. Brian and Tracy were sitting in the two armchairs living the couch for him and Javier. The Spaniard was already there, looking mildly distressed and staring at the floor. Yuzuru stayed leaning against the door frame, breathing slowly before knocking to signal his presence.

Brian’s head went up so fast he feared his coach might snap his neck. “Yuzu, we were waiting for you to begin!”

“I notice.” He said, trying to catch Javier’s eyes in vain. “What is this?”

“Maybe you could seat?” Offered Tracy in a soft, soothing voice. Why did he feel like he was going to hate this conversation?

“I’m good,” he argued. Brian glared at him so he sat down sighing.

“Want a tea?” she asked. “We were about to get something to drink, this might take a while.”

Amazing. He nodded and saw Brian get up and go outside, leaving the two skaters with the ice dancer. “We have to wait? You scaring me a lot.” He admitted.

              Javier finally looked at him, his lower lip bloody from having bitten it too much. Yuzuru ignored him and looked up at Tracy who was pacing, looking both unhappy and uncomfortable. He wished he didn’t have to make her feel that way, that he wouldn’t inflict that level of stress on anyone. If these reporters were here for him and Javier, it was unfair that the rest of them had to suffer from it.

“I think we can start,” she said, closing the door. “So, Javi, maybe you could go first?”

The Spaniard nodded. “Someone saw me and Emma in a café a couple of days ago. The article was released yesterday apparently and now…” He seemed to be hesitant to say the rest. “Well, now we have the press here.”

Yuzuru looked t him, confused. “And why I have too? I am not lady. Not me.”

Javier looked at him sideways then at Tracy. “Well, because many suppose that us not spending so much time together and being so affectionate together might be because I have a girlfriend.”

              Yuzuru liked to think he was smart, and most people seemed to agree with him. He always had had good grades, had understood people rather well as long as he was not personally involved and tended to behave rationally. So why didn’t he understand what was implied?

“Yes, but then I don’t matter?”

“No, what you don’t understand,” Tracy cut him off, “is that they have understood that there must have been something more between you and Javier than just friendship and they’re hunting down for details.”

              Silence settled over them with Javier looking at his feet again, Tracy standing with her hands rubbing her face and Yuzuru taking in everything. The media was closing in on their past relationship. They had been quick to piece everything together and now they would hunt him down to get information that was far too private. It was already hard to have both Brian and Tracy knowing, he couldn’t think of involving other people.

“Why they care?” He asked, and they could all tell his voice was angry and anxious. “I don’t do bad things. I don’t be mean. I’m nice to them and I try to do well. What changes if I have a boyfriend before? It is over, he have girlfriend and I move on. Nothing change…”

Both Tracy and Javier remained silence when he got up and started pacing. They both knew Yuzuru was a private person; he liked his life to be as far away from the limelight as it could. It was already hard for him to be a superstar, so for the media to try and pry in his personal life was unacceptable. Javier, especially, knew that he hadn’t wanted anyone to know that he might not be straight, because it would attract even more attention on him and he would get intrusive questions. But now, there were people outside who wanted answers and who could very well get an idea of their relationship’s timeline.

“I’m sorry…” Apologized the Spaniard. “I wish you didn’t have to live that.”

“Not your fault,” replied the younger one between gritted teeth.

              The door opened again to let Brian in. His hands were full with bags and he set everything on the table before closing the wood panel again and taking everything. Yuzuru was sure that everyone could feel the waves of anger washing over him despite his attempts to remain calm. He wanted to be left alone. He liked the spotlights on him when he was on the ice and could understand why they needed press conferences after each skate, but that, following him around and trying to learn more about his romantic life was too much.

“I get that they told you?” asked the newcomer.

“Yes.” Javier answered for Yuzuru, still sitting on the couch.

“It is not fair,” declared the Japanese man, finally looking at the others again. “I train hard. I bring medals. Not all but the ones I don’t have, Shoma get them. We do well and we bring glory. Why they want to knowing the stupid detail?”

Brian seemed to have accepted this and so did Javier. “They want to know you better, I guess.” Suggested Tracy. “They love you so they want to know more about you.”

“But this past! I’m not with Javi anymore, it don’t matter…” he sighed, already exhausted.

“They were always curious about our relationship,” supplemented Javier. He wanted to laugh bitterly, because he knew the Spaniard, and the way he had said his sentence, his intonation, was usually followed by a _cariño_. Some things were still hard to process.

“I don’t want to tell them,” he affirmed. “Do I have to?”

“No, you don’t,” Brian reassured him. “But you have to talk to them.”

“You have to get yourselves out of this situation.” Tracy reminded them. “A joint statement won’t keep them away this time.”

“They smelt blood and they came,” added Javier. He got up and came closer to Yuzuru who was eyeing him, a bit wary. “Listen Yuzu, I’m sorry to force you to go through it but we have to stay united, we…” His voice died out when he tried to put his hand on his former lover’s shoulder and the Japanese stopped it and took a step back.

“I don’t have to do nothing.” He defied. “I am adult. I can take my decisions. You don’t take them all anymore.”

              His little outburst provoked a heavy, shocked silence in the room with Javier looking at him with a confused and hurt expression. Both Tracy and Brian walked to a corner. They had to find a solution but they could at least give them an illusion of privacy.

              Yuzuru realized that all the bitterness and anger that he had accumulated during all these months was suddenly burning his skin, begging to escape. He had moved on, mostly, but he hated to be treated like a child, patronized. He resented Javier for having made a decision for the both of them without trying to talk about it and for the many occurrences when that had happened again after the break up. He had had a tough year and people still treated him like he was five and owed his entire life to the world.

              He only had a couple things left for him to hide and protect and the biggest one was his freedom to decide when to say to the world who he loved and he hated the idea that this could be torn away from him at any moment. What else did he have? People knew where he came from, where he lived. They knew the names of his family members and those of his rare friends. They knew most of his dreams and aspirations and they still wanted more?

“Yuzu…” Javier whispered and he looked at him, meeting his hazel eyes currently filled with hurt. “Is that how it seemed to you? That I left without thinking about you and went on with my life not thinking about you?”

“No. I feel like you decide that I am not good enough and want more and leave without you give me a chance to change anything. You make decisions and I have to follow because you know better.” He corrected. “And I accept that because I want you be happy and I want to be happy and I can’t force you to stay. But you don’t choose me to come out. This is my decision.”

              It was exhausting to go back to arguing with each other when everything has been said and done. It reminded Yuzuru of all the times they had stood like this, facing each other, ready to fight. They hadn’t done this much before, both of them being relatively calm and mature people. They usually tried to explain calmly the issues. This day, however, they were upset and it showed. The tension was high in the room. Between them there were only a couple of meters that the Spaniard crossed and they both knew what would be the next thing before it happened. Javier’s hand rose again and tried to cup the other’s face to soothe him down. It was stopped once again by the younger man.

“You don’t get to do that,” he seethed. “I am angry and I have right to be.”

“You do,” agreed Javier, taking a step back. “I just wish you would calm down so we can talk like adults now that you have expressed the need to be treated like one.”

              The trick was that, as furious as he was right now, the Japanese man couldn’t hate Javier, no matter how hard he tried. He wasn’t mad about the break up anymore; he understood and had accepted it. Yes, he was still rather bitter about not having the chance to try his best again, but now that he had said it, he felt better. No, what he was mad about was practically having his back against the wall and having to find a way to climb it not to be devoured.

“I need a minute.” He declared.

“Yuzu, we have to talk about it,” Brian called after him.

“If I stay like this, I be very mean and unfair. I need skate for a short time. Can I?”

Brian was about to disagree when Tracy intervened. “That’s a good idea. As long as we’re inside, this can stay like this, we just have to sort it before lunch. I suggest we all go and train for a couple hours so everyone can think about something else and maybe figure something out, and at eleven we come back here, are you okay with it Yuzu?”

              He nodded to her with a sincere, if a bit strained, smile. He liked Tracy, admired her for her patience and kindness. He’d come here to train with Brian and Javier but he had gained so much more with Tracy than what he had expected. She understood him so much better than Brian ever did and she always tried to keep him grounded.

              He escaped the room to go get changed. It was weird how putting on his training gear helped him focus his energy. It sent him back to everything he couldn’t achieve just by being angry and resentful. Lacing his skates looked like a promise of a better day and he couldn’t be more thankful to have this to pour his heart into. Of course, skating was at the root of his current problems, but it also had always been his escape.

              He made a bee line to the rink, bowed to the ice once, removed his guards and then took off. Just skating some lapses made his upper body relax. He could feel the muscles on his back untying, getting ready for the training session, feel the tingle in his body, the one that always pushed him to get up after a failed jump, his drive when he had lost hope.

Brian skated next to him. “A plan for today?”

“I think I work on my change foot spin, I get too slow and on my Biellman because not pretty enough. Then jumps. I want to jump today. A lot.” He answers and they both know there’s not going to be a discussion about this.

“Okay. If you want anything else I’ll be working with Elizabeth.”

              And with that he was left alone on the ice, almost ready to start the actual training. He just needed to stretch a little bit if he wanted to do anything, let alone the Biellman spin. Slowly, methodically, he prepared his body, focusing on muscle after the other, immersing himself entirely in his flexibility exercises. When his body felt warm and ready enough, he started properly skating.

              For a couple hours he was all over the ice. Near the pillars, dropping in a broken leg spin and testing its speed, in the middle, getting frustrated at his Biellman, closer to the side of the break room, trying different variations of the layback spin or, most of the time, lying somewhere, wheezing and grunting after having dramatically failed either his quad Lutz or his quad Axel. Each time he would get up and skate as fast as he could before getting to the next element. He had taken the bad habit of skating slower so as to save power for the jumps but he didn’t like the way it looked on footage.

              Tracy skated to him as he was leaning against a pillar, trying to catch his breath after having come out of a series of jumps that made him proud. You did not complete a quad loop half loop triple Salchow followed by a triple axel triple toe without getting a bit breathless. She rubbed his back slowly as he bent forward, hands on his knees. He had given his very best for this training and got pretty decent results. Still, he needed to practice more if he wanted to reunite with his World Title soon.

“Should I point out that you seemed pretty off on the triple Salchow?” She asked.

“I know. I lean forward.” He replied, straightening up.

“You’ve been doing that a lot recently,” she reminded him. “You should ask Brian about it.”

He nodded, wiping the sweat that was gathering on his forehead. “It is eleven?”

“Yes, Javier has gone showering and Brian and I are going in his office to wait for the both of you. Do you want to get changed before?”

“No, I be fine. Just talk, go take a shower and go to the studio.” He decided.

              She seemed to be fine with his decision and they both took off to go to Brian’s office. Yuzuru just stopped to remove his skates since the weight tended to tire his ankles even after twenty years of using them. He let them on the side and ran after his coach who had kept hers and seemed to be more than fine with walking on her guards. Tracy truly was Yuzuru’s hero.

              This time both Brian and Tracy were sitting on chairs around the desk, talking in hushed tones. Yuzuru knocked on the door so as not to intrude and they both looked at him at the same time with an open and warm smile on their face. Apparently, taking some time on the ice to think about it had softened everyone’s mood and he felt about ten times more confident having this discussion now. But first, he had to apologize. He bowed to both of his mentors.

“I am sorry you see the argument with Javier this morning. I must have waiting so we are alone.” He declared, eyes fixed on the floor.

“It’s okay,” Brian reassured him. “Better here than outside in front of reporters, and you probably needed that to be said. I’m also sorry that we had to be here.”

              They settled down in a comfortable silence after that, Yuzuru picking one of the armchairs to sit down and relax. He knew what he wanted to do now and was ready to defend it with everything he had. This was his decision to make, he was the one caught in the troubles of Javier’s love life. Because, in the end, reporters were always going to follow him around and by taking Emma out, he had made a statement without thinking about the possible consequences. Without warning Yuzuru they would go public. His guilt and lack of communicating skills had taken the Japanese by surprise and they found themselves dealing with an emergency rather than planning ahead.

              Javier arrived with his hair still damp and all of his bags around him. He seemed to be in a relatively good mood which made everyone relax. Maybe the discussion could actually go places without everyone trying to kill the others out of frustration or sheer anger. They could have an adult meeting to tackle the communication issues they currently experienced.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to make you wait,” the Spaniard apologized.

“It’s fine,” answered Brian. “Just take a seat, will you?”

The older skater complied and picked the other armchair. “So, what do we have to discuss now?”

              It may sound like a stupid question but they all knew the issue went beyond Yuzuru’s personal feelings and Javier’s love life. What they told the press would affect all of them.

“I think,” started Tracy, “that we should begin by the obvious which is you, Javi. What do you want to tell the media about your relationship?”

              Yuzuru felt immense pride at not feeling a stinging feeling in his chest at that word. Sure, he would have preferred anything to talking about Javier with someone else, but he did not feel jealousy. He might still adore his former boyfriend and would never be opposed to going back to him if he were sure they could both be happy, but his love was under lock and key, left to die somewhere, and he had accepted the break up. He gave himself a mental pat for his achievement.

“I want to tell them nothing,” confessed the Spaniard. “It is no one’s business but Emma’s and mine. She’s never had that kind of pressure on her. I called her during the break this morning and she told me she trusted us to do our best to keep her life away from the limelight. However, I do understand that I cannot remain silent. So I thought about just stating that I do have a partner, that she is not from the skating world and that she would like to remain away from it.”

Brian was biting his lips. “Do you think that it will keep the paparazzi away? I mean, they are here to get something to publish, right? This explanation is kind of bland; they’ll want to know more.”

“Could we, maybe, release her first name and profession? So people stop obsessing over her?” Asked Tracy. “If they know this much they’ll stop being interested, she is not famous and not as glamorous as, let’s say, Yuzuru Hanyu or Cortney.”

              Yuzuru tried to ignore the comment of him being Javier’s glamorous partner and tried to think about what Emma would like. She was a sweet girl with a quiet temper, unless she was talking about algorithms and transistors and then she was a passionate, very knowledgeable professional. She didn’t like much to be under everyone’s attention and always felt more comfortable around machines than people. Surprisingly, she had always seemed to put her trust in the good hearts of human beings and reacted very poorly to mean comments making her one of the most likeable person he had ever met.

Yuzuru shook his head. “I know Emma. Really nice person. If Javier tells her name and job, people can find her. People love Javier and want he be with someone famous or them. That is not fair for her.”

Javier looked at him with a smile. “Yuzu is right. Maybe just her job? There must be a couple of skaters called Emma here so just her name might cause issues.”

“Okay,” conceded Brian. “So just her job. Do you feel confident writing the statement yourself or do you want us to work on it together?”

“Maybe we can see every problem we need to tackle and then decide?” Offered Tracy. “I feel like we have many other things to talk about, the next one being Yuzuru’s role in this mess.”

Javier looked at him with a raised eyebrow, waiting for a proposition. “People think me and Javi were together because we stop talking which is right. But I can’t say it because that mean I must tell I can date boys and my sponsors and people in Japan can hate it. And I not ready. I am not…” The Japanese boy stopped, looking for his words.

“Ashamed?” Supplemented Brian and Yuzuru beamed at him.

“Yes. I am not ashamed of that but I can’t say yet.”

“I think we can all understand I know I do” said Javier with a soft smile. This was going somewhere.

“But we can say we had disagreement. It is hard to find reason that we don’t talk anymore that don’t include us not being okay,” he resumed. “But I don’t know what.”

              Brian looked like he was thinking about it while Tracy was just waiting for them to come with a solution that would fit them all. Javier and Yuzuru were just staring at each other, and for the first time in months, they were working together, in a civil, non-tortured way rather than shouting at each other in pain. They could actually communicate without all the lost feelings getting in their way.

“You are right,” said the Spaniard looking thoughtful. “We were too close to just grow apart so fast and it is suspicious that I got my current girlfriend, the first in almost three years after that. Am I the only thinking it is ironic that they understood we had been something because we are not anymore?”

Yuzuru let a bitter laugh escape. “We are better at hiding being together than at hiding not being. I think we can use the pressure of Olympics and the GPF. We are rivals so it makes sense.”

Tracy nodded. “It would but why now? I mean, you have gone through a first Olympic season being the best of friends so why now?”

The Japanese man shrugged. “First time nobody think I can win and I win by chance and Javier loses because his boots are not good. No bitterness because we aren’t expecting this and it is easy to forgive. But second time I defend my title and I say I want to defend my title so rivalry. And then I win GPF and I show I can so we become more tensed. After the Team Event I think I fail and I become mean. And then I win by a lot and Javier is third and he should be proud but I am still mean and I don’t apologize. Months of mean me and then no apology. He has right to hate me.”

Javier bit his lip. “I don’t like it so much… Not because it is bad, it is a good excuse, but you are not like that. You are nice to your competitors, you’ve never been mean to me and I don’t want people to think you are a monster.”

Brian interceded. “And at the GPF you kept hugging and congratulating each other, this is no behavior from rivals. It must be more sudden. An argument about your goals and friendship than? You could say that you had different goals and your friendship was slowing down one of you and so you argued about it and stopped talking?”

              There was a moment of embarrassed silence as they processed it. Brian must have realized he hit too close to home when he saw both of the boys look at each other and Javier seeming about to disagree. Yuzuru took the time to take it in, holding his former boyfriend back by putting his hand on his arm.

“I think I don’t like it,” said Yuzuru. “Because I don’t want people to know that.”

“I agree,” added Javier. “I don’t like it either. I know you mean to help us but this is way too real for my liking. I don’t want that information to go around and people asking me about it…”

“But I think we should do it,” resumed the Japanese man. “It is very close to what happen and that is how we can convince the media. We feel what we say and that is real.”

“Yuzu…” sighed the Spaniard taking his hand to everyone’s surprise and knowing very well it made the other uncomfortable. “That means people will ask you about it. And it’s only a friendship we’re talking about; neither of us can get too emotional. This is going to be hard on the both of us so why make it more difficult?”

The other took his hand back with an angry look. “I know they have questions about. My priority is they don’t see we really together. That I can’t do. It hurts more if they know because I can’t lose people I love. So I can say that. Please. Agree.”

Javier looked mildly uneasy with the losing one loved one after another concept, probably knowing he was part of the problem, but that didn’t mean he had to like the idea of them telling everyone basically why they had broken up and hoping there wouldn’t be any more questions. Well, at least that’s how the younger skater interpreted his expression. They were both trying to read the other and Tracy cleared her throat.

“Both of you are right, of course,” she started, hesitant. “And I don’t mean to force either of you to do something they don’t want to do, but Yuzuru has a point. It would be easier to lie if it is partly based on the truth. As long as you think you can do it, it would be the least harmful to your image and you don’t even have to develop.”

“No,” was the only answer from Javier. “It seems like the perfect option here but what if they ask more about our divergent objective? I mean, friendships don’t usually have to go the same way so it has to be pretty extreme so what do we say? I say I wanted a lifelong partner and Yuzuru wanted his career? Sounds pretty gay to me.”

“We can say I want to focus on my career and you want to have fun and I lose focus with you because I get distracted,” suggested Yuzuru. “And we argue because you think I don’t live and I don’t want you to tell me what I do. That is not true but can be.”

“The idea has merit,” approved Brian. “I mean, you can’t really say it was a small thing and you arguing because your well-known personalities and habits clash seem pretty decent.”

“I don’t know…”

“Javi…” sighed Yuzuru. “I know is hard but we have to say something and this protect you and me.”

              They stared at each other for a moment and there was so much they could say with just their eyes. Talking had become hard because of the distance that had settled between them and they no longer touched enough to use that as an efficient way of communicating. Even the other’s body language had become foreign so they could only rely on the raw emotions they felt and on the looks they gave each other. And this one was filled with unguarded longing and silent prayers. It conveyed the desire and need that would burst if they let their guards down for too long but also the fear and the hurt they had inflicted to the other. And the younger one knew that his eyes showed his tiredness, his need to be done with everything, with that relationship that had started as a new hope, had grown to be the spine of his life before collapsing and crushing some of his dreams. That seemed to be enough to break the other’s will.

“Okay,” he agreed, voice raw and heart beating too fast. “I’ll stick to that. As long as you learn to leave when people get too insistent or invasive. We can’t have you having a panic attack like the other time.”

Brian seemed curious about it but Yuzuru answered by a nod.

“What else?” Asked Tracy.

“People will want to know how we deal with that change in dynamics here,” added Brian. “Which is simple since they both have been training on different schedules for years and only come at the same time when Shae-Lynn or David are here at the same time so this is simple, it only affected us because of the media attention.”

“Easy enough,” smiled Tracy before she froze. “Yuzu…”

He realized it at the same time as her. “They will ask me if me being bad at Worlds is because of this. They ask me if I am down.”

“Which you probably wouldn’t be if that relationship was just a friendship,” continued Brian. “Fuck.”

“Well, if you consider we were best friends,” added Javier, his voice barely wavering, “I think we can just say it threw Yuzu off balance and he had to adapt.”

              The latter grimaced. He didn’t like thinking about having to tell the press how his fallout with his “best friend” had affected his life. Going into details would be too painful and the questions that would come after such a declaration would lead to a slippery slope where, at all times, he risked mentioning too much. And yet, he couldn’t think of a better explanation.

“Great, now I am creepy,” he growled. “I understand why but that is very high risk.”

“Any other idea?” asked Brian.

“No.”

“Then that’s our version for now,” decided Tracy. “We need to act quick and smart. Javier, if you could be nice enough to warn us next time you go public with someone?”

This might have been meant as a joke but Javier looked at her with more than just annoyance in his eyes. “Next time?”

“No offense,” Brian continued, “but do you think she is the one?”

              There was an awkward silence when Javier looked at Yuzuru and the latter had no idea what that meant. Did it mean he was supposed to help Javier defend his new relationship? Was it thrown his way because the Spaniard felt embarrassed talking about it around him? Did that mean he was supposed to be the one? He didn’t understand and made sure to signal it by frowning and raising his shoulders. He hoped that would do.

Apparently it didn’t because the other sighed. “Can we not talk about a potential next girlfriend? Or boyfriend, for that matter? Can we keep with the issue at hand?”

Yep, Yuzuru seconded that opinion; he didn’t feel like talking dreams, future and potential partners with his two coaches and his former boyfriend. “We done?” he asked stretching.

“I think, yes. Or maybe not but we’ll see writing the entire statements. Anyway, I’ve just realized we’ll have to send that to your federations’ lawyers before we can release them, they hated us enough last time, no need to antagonize them any further. We should be here for another hour at least so who’s up for lunch?” Brian offered.

             

              It took them about two hours to write everything they wanted, translate them in both Japanese and Spanish and then send them to the JSF and the Spanish Federation. Two hours of trying to find the perfect phrasing, of trying how to protect the three of them, Emma, Javier and Yuzuru while still giving a decent explanation. And when, finally, the final draft was ready, they sent it to the people who still needed to approve them.

              They stayed the entire afternoon at the club, both pupils working off-ice either with the harness or on their flexibility, not talking to each other but in a comfortable silence. Maybe it was the fact that the last unsaid things between them had been said. Maybe it was because this would be the absolute last gesture of closure they could bring or maybe it was because they’d both realized that, no matter how it still hurt to be apart, they could live after that and be happy. They could achieve things without the other, they could go on. It should have been obvious, and they both had decided to try, but it took this day of working together to build their separate lives while still somehow having the other’s back to understand that it was true.

              When both their federations approved of the statement, they just posted it on Javier’s Twitter and the Spaniard allowed himself a moment of nostalgia by posting the picture of his first world title’s medal ceremony, the moment when they’d both been standing on the first step for the pictures, radiant. Yuzuru understood it as a tribute to their past relationship and as a letting go gesture. Take one last good memory for the road.

              He didn’t care if there were reporters that had waited for him outside, he just ignored them. He walked with a small smile gracing his lips, his steps more confident than ever. The summer sun caressed his skin and he felt content. This may have been a stupidly long day filled with unnecessary obstacle, but as he stood at the end of it, he felt more dignified and a bit more of an adult.

              Missing someone may be like the feeling of waves washing over you, moments when you were looking for them to find they’d left, having to forget the sound of their voice or the light behind their eyes, but it was also a learning experience about yourself. Yes, Yuzuru was still very attached to Javier and he would miss waking up to him playing with his hair. He would still feel like his life had lost one of its dimensions without him, but he was no longer grieving for it. They had had something truly special, something worth remembering, but, as it came to an end, there was no reason to stay in that one place of misery. There was so much more to see and live, so much more to accomplish than just being in love. His life was not limited to that one romantic experience; there would be many others, no matter if he couldn’t imagine them now, and if not, he could also be just fine. Breathing slowly, he let go.

 


End file.
